


Know that Poison

by Panny



Category: Batwoman (Comic), DCU (Comics), Midnighter (Comics), Midnighter and Apollo (Comics), The Question (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Blending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Identity Porn, M/M, Pre-Flashpoint (DCU), Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-04 02:59:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panny/pseuds/Panny
Summary: Vigilantism is a high demand business in Gotham; Kate knew that before she put on the mask.Her civilian life is more together than it's ever been - reconciled with her no-longer-ex-girlfriend, a nice apartment that doesn't even have a hole in it anymore, and the chest wound more or less healed nicely. As Batwoman, her unsteady alliance with the Question is thrown further off-balance by the arrival of a masked lunatic who missed the memo on the Heroes Don't Kill rule.





	Know that Poison

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ictus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ictus/gifts).



> Canon divergence where Kate and Renee don't really link up during _52_ and both manage to survive without discovering each other's secret identities (thank Dick, Vic, and Richard for collectively contributing to their continued Not Dead status). Midnighter (based more heavily on the Orlando run, but I've never been afraid to borrow from multiple continuities) exists on New Earth and pays Gotham a visit. Lucas Trent is an alias; Midnighter has no memories of his past. Also the Narrows get to play a big role despite their limited canonical existence on New Earth because if "I do what I want" is good enough for canon, it's good enough for me.
> 
> Playing fast and loose with canon to make identity porn and a big gay team up happen. It's a noble cause.
> 
>  
> 
> * * *
> 
> I'm not usually like this  
> The good ones tear me apart  
> I'm a slave to my feelings  
> Moral high ground getting in the way of my heart  
>   
> How do I look as a hypocrite  
> I think that we should explore  
> That I've been untrusting of my head  
> And I've been duped by myself before
> 
> -Ria Mae, _Girlfriend[**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RfA4Nero8Ns)_

Kate Kane was a light sleeper. It was hard to say which sound woke her up: quiet footfalls padding by her bedside, the clink of a belt buckle being fumbled with in the dark, her lover’s soft cursing as she searched for her shirt. The other side of the bed was empty, but still warm enough that Kate could delude herself into thinking that she didn’t want to get up for a few more minutes. Still, she said: “It’s under the bed.” She was nice like that.

The mattress dipped slightly under gentle pressure, just a hand as Renee maneuvered herself to follow up on Kate’s advice. There was a small noise of surprise, half way to being laughter, and then the mattress sprung easily back to its usual buoyancy. A short pause and then a hand stroked tenderly over her face. Kate turned her head to press a kiss to the palm, eyes still closed. “Mm. Stay.”

“No can do. Night shift, baby.”

Kate shifted, propping herself up on one elbow as she opened her eyes. Renee was a murky shape in the dim not-light, pushing her hair into a tight ponytail as she freed it from the collar of last night’s t-shirt. “Are you going to tell me about your case?”

“Once I’m sure there is a case. Sure.”

“If you tell me that you’re leaving my bed at -” Kate checked the clock, groaning as she stood up “- one in the morning without getting paid for it, I might murder you.”

“Well, we can’t have that; imagine the paperwork you’d give the GCPD.” Renee grinned, moving obediently as Kate twirled a finger in the universal gesture for ‘turn around’. “I’m doing some personal investigation before I meet with the client to hash out details. People hire P.I.s for one of two reasons: either they already know what’s going on and just want to prove it or they have no idea and neither does anybody else.” Kate shifted Renee’s hair out of the way to tuck the wash tag back into her collar. She pressed a quick kiss to the back of her neck for good measure before letting her ponytail swing back. “People hire someone like me because nobody else wants to look anymore. Sometimes that means there’s nothing to find.”

“And other times?”

“Other times I get to do some good.”

Renee turned and dropped her hands to rest on Kate’s waist. She leaned in for what was probably meant to be a goodbye kiss, but it was quickly followed by a second – a third without fully separating. “I could pay you,” Kate said. “More than your client could afford.”

“Tempting.” Another kiss, soft to the point of almost being chaste. “Wouldn’t have thought you’d be the type to have a kept woman.”

“Are you kidding? Wait until Catherine finds out where her money’s going now.”

Renee’s nose wrinkled and she finally stepped back. “Okay, no step-mother talk in the bedroom.”

Kate sat back on the bed, heavy enough that it bounced a little underneath her, before chucking a pillow half-heartedly in Renee’s direction. “Go save the world, Detective Montoya.”

Renee laughed, slipping on her shoes, one hand already on the doorknob. “Don’t call me that; you might actually summon Maggie Sawyer with a pair of handcuffs. And not in a sexy way.”

Kate stayed seated as she listened to Renee walk herself out of the apartment, the soft click of the front door marking her exit, basking in the afterglow of what had been a damn fine evening. She knew the honeymoon phase when she was in the middle of it – eye of the storm. It was every bit as sweet as the first time. She just hoped they were both better at weathering the fallout the second time around.

It wouldn’t be like last time, though. It had to be different because they were different. Renee had been the driven career woman; her future was mapped in the stars and because of that she could act like she’d never gone a day in her life without asking herself what doing ‘the right thing’ meant. Kate had been directionless, waiting for a free ride to Never Never Land after losing out on the only meaningful thing it felt like adult life could have in store for her. But now. Now.

Now she could feel the presence of Batwoman HQ like a second heartbeat. It was probably dangerous, bringing lovers so close to a secret guarded by a threadbare veil. It was definitely dangerous when it was Renee; she was clever, curious, and never knew how to stay out of anybody’s business. Maybe that was what made it exciting. She’d have to watch that impulse.

She didn’t make the bed when she left. The night was young and Gotham never, ever fucking slept.

 

* * *

 

There was a certain advantage to travelling over rooftop. It was cold, sure, but there was no traffic and you could see everything. And if you did it right, no one could see you; even in Gotham, all but the worst troublemakers were too busy keeping their heads down to ever look up. She wondered how it worked outside the cities, where the buildings weren’t so tall or close together. Maybe they didn’t have vigilantes – didn’t need them. It was hard to imagine, though she was sure she remembered a time before the symbol of the bat shined over Gotham.

Kate very deliberately did not turn at the sound of footsteps behind her. They were not particularly loud, but she had come to believe that the choice to don a mask and a certain degree of stealth went hand in hand. If she could hear her visitor’s approach, it was because she was meant to. “You’re late.”

“Don’t do that. We never agreed on a meeting time.” The Question’s voice carried an undercurrent of amused playfulness that Kate could never entirely distinguish from artifice. Maybe it was the lack of face that made her so difficult to read, but regardless, Kate had found that the best strategy was to refuse to play along until some kind of point became evident.

“Quiet night,” Question said, apparently unperturbed by Kate’s silence. She crossed her arms casually over the roof’s railing, not far from where Kate had perched herself. Her hair was honey-blonde tonight, tied back beneath the brim of her hat. Kate wondered if she wasn’t the only one who played tricks with wigs, but she wasn’t about to tug on it to find out. “Did you grow up in Gotham?”

“Nice try, but I don’t see how that’s your business.”

“I did. Grow up here. Can’t remember the last time Gotham was quiet,” Question said, steamrolling on. Kate’s lips twitched, but she otherwise avoided any outward acknowledgement of how little her answer had apparently mattered. “Where are the petty criminals, Batwoman? Where are the bums on the streets? Where are the drunks knocking over garbage cans in the middle of the night?”

Kate hesitated, disquieted in spite of herself. “Is this leading up to something?”

“Just think somebody should be asking some questions.” Question paused, shifting to peer out over the dark street below. “The city’s never empty. Not like this.”

Kate’s eyes narrowed, a chill worming its way up her spine. That serious tone and not even taking the time to revel in a ‘question’ pun – signs pointed to something bad. “Does this have anything to do with the subject of our mutual interests?”

“Don’t know yet.”

Kate stared out at the city thoughtfully. It really was too quiet. It was a bad slip up that alarm bells hadn’t been ringing the minute she’d stepped out – a nearly unforgiveable oversight. Still, if neither of them had any answers, there was no benefit to be gained out of continuing to just talk about it. She leapt from the railing to the flat of the roof, cape whirling around her. “Then I’ll take my leave.” She didn’t get much further than turning her back.

“So, is it justice or vengeance you’re after?”

“You’re not my life coach, Question.” And then, against her better judgement: “Am I not allowed to want both?”

Question hadn’t moved from her casual slump, but the eerie faceless mask tracked her in the dark. Kate thought the tilt of her head felt strangely accusatory. “Just so long as you’re clear about where your priorities are.”

“I would say that getting stabbed on a sacrificial alter has done wonders for my priorities.” Kate’s chest ached in echo of the thought and she had to clench her hands into fists to avoid touching it. So what if she wanted a little vengeance; the Religion of Crime had more than earned the target on their back. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“I thought we were friends,” Question said in what sounded like it was probably mock hurt. “I saved your life.”

“Nightwing saved my life.” That was unfair, Kate knew. Nightwing might have been the one to unstrap her from that damned table, but he hadn’t acted alone.

“Yeah, he’s a gentleman like that.”

They were being pettier than was warranted between allies; it was beneath them both. Kate mentally shook herself, chasing the past away in favour of the present moment. There was information to follow up on – that was more important. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground. See if I can’t find some answers to go with those questions of yours.”

 

* * *

 

_Can’t do tonight. Stuff to handle. Rain check?_

Kate watched the words on her phone screen intensely, as if they would change under her scrutiny. She didn’t know why it bothered her; she could have sent the same message. Should have even. They were adults. Adults with lives – two lives, really, in Kate’s case. Plenty of much more functional couples saw each other far less. And Renee had done the courteous thing and let her know.

If Renee wanted to ghost her, she wouldn’t get a warning.

When she typed out her reply it was with a firm, decisive hand: _Sure no problem. Love you._

The reply was swift and Kate wondered if Renee had been watching her phone in much the same way; the thought made her selfishly feel a little bit better. _Love you too_.

Mini relationship crisis taken care of, Kate considered her options for her suddenly free evening. Long shadows littered her apartment floor, the precursor to the threat of night in Gotham. The past few days, she had investigated the Question’s tip as only Kate Kane could. She had left late, on foot – in high heels as often as she could stand to. She’d held on to large handbags, kept her jewelry south of flashy, but always included a statement piece – a bracelet or a necklace or a particularly sleek watch – that might catch the glow of the streetlights. She wandered into convenience stores and bought canned food she didn’t need. She had been bizarrely, disconcertingly untroubled on every trip. Something was off, there was no doubt about that now – it was just a matter of figuring out what blast radius they needed to prepare for when things inevitably blew up.

She considered that Kate Kane might have done all she could for the time being. It was time for the Bat to remind Gotham that even silence didn’t go unheard.

The screens in the heart were alive and bright, casting light over where Batwoman held vigil until Kate was ready to slip her on. There was an immediate security that settled over her as she changed, but it did nothing to dampen the excitement. She wondered if it was messed up that she was so eager for a stress test, to face blades or bullets and to see, with certainty, that they didn’t touch her. Even better, she wanted to see the face of the first person who didn’t account for the liquid armor and mistook her for a victim.

Kate was familiar with words like ‘trauma’ and ‘dependency’, knew any CO worth their salt would have scheduled a psych eval weeks ago (hell, her father had _tried_ ), but Batwoman couldn’t flinch back from danger and Kate didn’t know how to put theory into practice where this was concerned. She was military; she knew the weight of a uniform – what it did to someone, how it changed them. But Batwoman was different, something beyond camouflage. She was wearing her insides on the outside in bold colour for everyone to see. Kate Kane was a collection of masks, each more real than anything she had aspired to being in her entire life. She had always been this way, whatever it meant.

Decked out in red and black, Kate looked to where the mask still perched, glowering for want of a smile. “You and I have work to do,” she said.

Under the glare of the monitor light, Batwoman seemed to agree.

 

Gotham’s docks were not known for being beacons of discretion. You knew when there was illicit activity going on because you saw movement. There was movement tonight and after days of conspicuous nothing, that was reason enough to investigate.

Kate moved as swiftly as she could while silencing her footsteps over hollow metal. Shipping containers. Did anyone actually use shipping containers for legitimate purposes anymore?

There were fewer men than she expected given the amount of cargo they seemed to be moving. It was to her benefit in the moment, but she filed the information away for later review. The men kept pacing and muttering and the only laughter was of the nervous variety. Something had spooked them already, put them on edge before she arrived; she filed that away too.

It took a little patience to wait for one to wander off by himself, moving in the direction of the crates closest to the water front. He could have been innocent, she supposed, but he was also wearing a balaclava with his gun half out of his waistband like he thought he was a robber in a Saturday morning cartoon. Then again, discussing subtlety was a short walk to stones and glass houses. It was that thought that sealed the deal for her in the scant seconds she had to decide on her first move. She grabbed the man by one shoulder and slammed him into the side of the nearest shipping container, adding enough of her own weight to make a satisfying bang, wanting him to hear it even more than he felt it. It was a gamble, but she wanted him intimidated and as much as she was sure the noise would bring attention, she was willing to bet that his nervous friends wouldn’t hurry in their investigation. All the better if he knew that.

As quickly as she confiscated his gun, she made a point of letting him see it before she discarded it, giving his gaze time to lock onto where she held it in her hand, the whites of his eyes huge and round beneath his ridiculous mask. “Packing a lot of heat just to receive a shipment,” she said, keeping the tone of her voice casual, but letting her smile form sharp corners. “Somebody could get hurt.”

“It’s Gotham,” he said and even though his voice shook through the last syllable, she gave him credit for bravery.

“Sure is, which makes it my jurisdiction.” She pressed him harder against the container, pressure on the ribs and one arm lightly constricting his windpipe. Lack of breath had a tendency to make people panicky. “Why don’t you help me fill in some blanks.”

“Fuck you.”

Kate punched the container next to his head; she hadn’t come anywhere near hitting him, but he flinched back anyway. “Try again.”

It was the screaming that caught Kate’s attention, but the gunshots that made her actually turn her head. Her conversation partner tried to push her back, but couldn’t quite get the leverage. He got an elbow to the solar plexus for the trouble. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but could feel the muscles in her jaw clenching anyway. Something was going sideways fast and she’d just waded in blind. “Doesn’t sound like your friends are headed our way.”

To her surprise, the man clutched at her shoulders, pulling her in rather than trying to push her away this time. “Are you with him?” Kate’s baffled stare only seemed to encourage him, hands desperately searching for purchase on her cape. “You’re a hero, right? Big bad hero, so fucking save me. That’s what you do. You have to do something, Jesus _Christ_ –”

Kate made a snap decision and shoved him to the ground. It had crossed her mind to knock him out or tie him up, loathe as she was to let her only lead run off into the night, but she didn’t know what was going on and couldn’t waste time trying to protect him. She couldn’t have that on her conscience. Didn’t mean she had to be nice about letting him go. “Get out of here. Whatever they’re paying you can’t be enough to die for them.” She took off without waiting to see if he followed her advice.

When she first caught sight of the dark figure, she had a surreal, disconnected moment where she thought she was looking at Batman. Maybe it was the black outfit or the mask or the imposing confidence with which he carried himself. And then it clicked that Batman didn’t usually carry a _gun_.

The figure turned to greet her with a rictus grin and she had just enough time to think _he’s insane_ before he spoke: “Not the bat I was expecting.”

Kate hesitated, thrown off by the undercurrent of good humour lurking in the tone, an unsettling contrast to the small trail of blood that painted his cheek. Her muscles were coiled, tense, ready for an attack she expected to come sooner. “I trust you’ll survive the disappointment.”

“Maybe.” He inclined his head with something that almost resembled politeness. “That asshole behind you on the other hand? Probably not.”

Kate had barely started to turn when the masked man’s gun went off. Lo and behold, there was her friend from earlier, apparently incapable of taking a damn hint. He was howling, clutching his bloody hand to his chest as if that would somehow protect it from further harm. Lying forgotten on the ground was a familiar gun, looking a little worse for wear. The masked man had been fast – not speedster fast, but more than fast enough. It occurred to her that he could have killed their would-be attacker outright. It occurred to her that this had probably not been a mercy.

Kate set her stance more firmly, turning to face the masked man again with her fists raised. Her heart lurched in protest of leaving an enemy at her back, even if it was to save them both from the much more dangerous enemy at the front. Hadn’t she wanted to test how bullet proof the armour was only a few hours ago? She found she still wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea and decided to worry about the implications of that later. “That’s not the way we do things here.”

“That’s why this place is a trash fire.” The masked man gestured casually with his gun in hand, alluding to the sobbing figure behind her. “You’re welcome for saving your life, by the way.”

“I’ll have Arkham put an extra pudding cup on your lunch tray.”

“Look, I’m having a pretty good night, so let me give you some friendly advice.” The man brought the pointer finger of his free hand to tap against his temple. “I’ve got a special computer in my head that’s telling me all about you. I know about every move you’ll make before you make them. I know about every toy you’ve got on that belt of yours. I’ve already played this fight out a million times in my head and there isn’t one possible outcome where you win. You move like you know what you’re doing; somebody trained you well – a few somebodies, I’d guess. It won’t be enough and that’s not your fault. You saw how fast I was. I was designed for this. Only this.”

Kate frowned, but didn’t drop her fists. “Are you suggesting that I step aside and let you kill this man?”

He snorted. “Of course not. You’d never go for it. You hero types worry too much about saving every life to think about the net total you lose by letting reckless idiots like this wander around.” For a moment his smile slipped, a note of genuine hostility bleeding into his voice. Then the moment was over and he shoved the gun away, letting it clatter to the ground between them, spreading his empty hands pointedly. “I’ve got everything I need and he’s not worth fighting over. You let me go on my way, you can keep my leftovers.”

Kate grimaced, teeth bared. Part of her insisted that she put him down right here. Part of her wanted to pick this fight on principle alone. Part of her wanted to see if he could do half of what he claimed. Part of her, a part that sounded annoyingly like the Question, asked if she could afford not to pick her battles when it had grown quiet behind her and their third party had probably already passed out or was currently going into shock. Priorities indeed. _Dam_ mit.

“I have to admit, I was kind of hoping you’d do things the hard way.” The man smiled again, a little less manic, but still discomfiting. “Catch ya later, hero.” He disappeared around the side of the shipping container and there was a flash of orange. Kate couldn’t help taking the risk of checking, but there was no sign of where he’d gone.

 

* * *

 

Kate slammed into the brick wall of consciousness about half way through her cellphone’s first rendition of its looped ringtone. She reached for the curse words hovering at the edge of her thoughts and couldn’t manage to vocalize more than a low groan as she groped for it while moving as little of her body as possible. There was light creeping past the covered windows; she should be up already. She should have been hitting the weights. She should have been checking her equipment. She should have been out, keeping up the façade of regular appearances and normal life. She wanted to sleep for the next ten hours.

With great reluctance, she did none of those things in favour of picking up the call the minute her hand connected with the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s a missing person case. It’s real.”

There was an odd moment, still shaking off the fuzzy bonds of sleep, where Kate had to think to place the voice. “Renee?”

“You got other girls calling you for shop talk?” Renee almost snapped the words, but she sounded distracted, like she had already forgotten that Kate was on the other end of the line. Kate bit down on her own irritation and took stock.

It would be obvious to anyone that Kate hadn’t been up yet; it would be obvious to Renee that she’d never really gone to bed at all. Truth be told, she barely remembered getting in and could only note with relief that the suit hadn’t been left lying on the floor or anything similarly compromising. It had taken worse nights for her to be so out of it as to forget to secure her alter ego behind locked doors, but it did her well to be wary of becoming too comfortable. She swept a hand over her hair, feeling the places where it was still matted after hours under the wig. She’d have time to shower or clean up, not both. “Do you want to come over?” she asked because Renee was upset and that was what they did.

 

Kate greeted Renee at the door with loose sweats and damp hair. A frown passed briefly over Renee’s face as she took her in, but whatever she thought was stowed away without a word. Kate pretended she hadn’t seen it, leaned in for a hello kiss, and pushed the door open wider in invitation. “Are you okay?” It was a stupid question with an obvious answer, but it was the only one she was allowed to ask. _Honeymoon phase_ , she thought and wondered if it was the lack of sleep that made her so bitter.

“Fine,” Renee said in a way that meant _no_.

Kate nodded. “I’ll make coffee.”

Renee embodied visible nervous energy, possibly less relaxed sitting down than she had been standing up. Kate used the time it took for the coffeemaker to heat up to think, resting her hands firmly against the countertop as if it could provide some grounding. Renee wasn’t a P.I.; Kate knew that, she’d looked it up and then sat on the questions it raised despite her better judgement. Renee had voluntarily turned in her badge sometime in the ten years of space they’d given each other, but she kept taking on cases as an unlicensed investigator because...why, exactly? She couldn’t make it add up any more than she could envision the Renee she’d once known walking away from the job that had been more a part of her identity than just about anything else. None of this made any sense.

Kate sat down, sliding a mug to Renee’s side of the table. She wrapped her hands around her own drink, almost enjoying the warmth more than the thought of drinking it. “What happened?” she asked, trying to aim for _I’m worried about you_ and hoping she didn’t land in _what the hell have you gotten yourself into_.

Renee reached into her pocket and pulled out a weather-beaten piece of paper. She carefully unfolded it before laying it down in front of Kate and tapping on the headline. Bold red lettering announced something called _Second Life_ over a minimalist black and white design. “Have you ever heard of this?”

Kate shook her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Where’d you find this?”

“Guy in the Narrows gave it to me. He was the last one to see the man I’m supposed to be looking for alive.”

Kate paused, fingers tensed over where they’d been smoothing out a corner of the paper. “This man you’re looking for…he’s from the Narrows?”

Renee leaned back in her chair, abruptly defensive for reasons that weren’t immediately apparent. “You don’t have to be from the Narrows to fall on hard times.”

Kate pulled her hands from the table, retreating to the boundaries of her own chair. “I never said you did.”

Renee’s face closed off for a brief moment where Kate anticipated an argument. And then, just as quickly, her body language softened, curling forward so that she could scrub her hands over her face. “No, you didn’t. I’m just…being an ass. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Tell me what’s going on, Renee.”

“Okay. Okay. Shit.” Renee took a deep breath, blinking up at the ceiling before returning her attention to Kate. “I was hired to find somebody. Fell out with his family and now his sister’s trying to re-connect, but he’s been avoiding her and she wants to know if that’s, you know, his choice.”

“Sounds standard,” Kate said evenly.

“It is. Everything about this is standard down to our missing man. No fixed address, spent all his time at the bottom of a bottle, you know the story.”

“I can guess.”

“Guys like this disappear all the time and there are always sisters asking after them like family means anything. No one’s looking for him, Kate. Why would they?”

“No one except for you.” Kate arched an eyebrow. “You think the sister’s right.”

“Maybe. Something’s off here.” Renee’s face tensed and she ran a finger over the lettering on the paper. “Man who gave me this said my guy started talking about it all the time before he went AWOL. Proselytized about it like it was religion. Or rehab.”

“I have to admit, there aren’t a lot of reputable outreaches that bother with the Narrows, but –” Kate bit her lip “– maybe that’s what it is. Could be a good thing.”

“It’s not.” Renee sounded certain, but offered no further elaboration.

Kate paused, debating on how to proceed. It wasn’t like she’d never seen Renee hung up on a case before; she never did let things go easy. But this wasn’t Renee processing or dealing. Kate didn’t know what this was. “Why is this one getting to you so much?”

“You weren’t there. You don’t know how…low I got, Kate.” Kate bit off the obvious reply that that hadn’t been her choice; it wouldn’t help anything. She remained silent and still as Renee seemed to shrink before her eyes, something that looked a lot like shame settling into her expression. It was new and unfamiliar and Kate didn’t like it at all. “I was one bad day from being him.”

After a long moment, Kate said: “And nobody’s looking for him.”

Renee exploded with sudden anger, slamming her hand against the table. “No. No, they’re not.”

 _Why the fuck aren’t you with the GCPD?_ Kate thought, knowing she was a hypocrite and thinking it anyway. _Why don’t you have resources – people? What the hell happened to you?_ Kate reached out and covered Renee’s hand with her own, unnerved on her own behalf by how much courage the action seemed to take. “What do you want me to say, Renee?”

Renee closed her eyes. Her hand twitched under Kate’s, but didn’t move otherwise. “I just want someone to tell me I’m not going crazy.”

“You’re not crazy,” Kate said, “but you are too close to this. Come on, Renee, you were a cop. You know you can’t stay on this case.”

Renee snorted, but didn’t get angry like Kate was half expecting. “I’m all there is.”

“No, you’re not. There are proper channels.” _You believed in them once._

“You think I should dump this on Sawyer’s desk and see what she says?” Renee smiled, but it seemed pasted on. She was wearying, backing down too quickly. She never would have done that before.

“Yes. I do.”

Renee stared at her and then snapped her eyes away, heaving out a harsh breath. “You’re right. Okay. Consider Renee Montoya officially pulled from this case.”

Kate waited to see if Renee would say anything else, but she didn’t, staring hard at the table. Kate got up, wincing at the scrape of the chair over the wood floor. She crossed the distance of the table in precise strides, taking Renee’s face in her hands and carefully guiding her to meet her gaze. The expression that met her wasn’t reassuring, Renee’s eyes filled with something painful she didn’t recognize. She swept a thumb softly over Renee’s cheekbone, cradled her face with a gentleness she was still trying to learn, and wished she was doing more. Batwoman’s birth had been selfish in a way, but Kate would never take the suit off again if it would mean that people like Renee no longer had to fear shadows in the dark. “Don’t go home tonight. Stay with me.”

“Okay.”

 

Renee’s fingers drew lazy shapes on her chest in what might have been a precursor to something more sensual, but they kept stuttering on the patch of smooth scar tissue. Kate had told Renee about her heart problems, she knew that Kate had had surgery. There was also no doubt that Renee had seen more than enough stab wounds to know what one looked like. She had never mentioned it, though – had never questioned if anything had happened beyond what Kate had told her. Kate honestly didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.

Kate caught Renee’s hand in her own, twining their fingers together to smooth out any offence that might be taken from the action. “I love you,” she said. Half to hear herself say it, half because it was easier than saying the rest of it.

Renee brought their clasped hands to her lips and brushed feather light kisses over Kate’s knuckles. “Whatever you’ve got spinning around in your head, it can wait until morning.”

Kate laughed, using her free arm to tug Renee against her, letting Renee sling one leg over both of hers. “Yes, ma’am.”

Renee shook against her, hair tickling her collar bone. “If you want to play it like that.”

Kate hummed. “Not tonight. I think I’m good with just this. I think I needed this.” Renee shifted to look up at her. “Trust me, I can’t believe I’m turning you down either.”

“Sap,” Renee said, sounding soft and fond. Kate tightened her arm and tried not to dread the morning.

 

* * *

 

The first chills of winter were creeping over Gotham. The suit was well-insulated, but Kate’s face stung under where the mask ended. A few hours ago, she had watched a young couple stumble down the street, arms linked, laughing and complaining about the weather. Now no one braved the cold.

The Batwoman mask was rendered in something close to a permanent glare, but Kate was just as frustrated underneath. If _Second Life_ was a religion, she would gladly take a sermon right about now. She let two fingers rest against the pouch of her belt where she’d stowed the paper, considering her options. She wanted to take Renee at her word, to believe that something more was going on, but it was like trying to solve a puzzle with most of the pieces missing. It would have been odd enough to be unable to find someone willing to talk about whatever it was (because there was always someone willing to talk for profit or for fear), but she had to weigh it against the ghost town that had become Gotham’s new normal after midnight. And considering the confrontation at the docks, she had at least one good reason why Gotham’s underbelly might have chosen to become Gotham’s underground. They wouldn’t stay there forever, especially not when one of the big kids got tired of someone muscling in on their playground, but a bullet to the head might work as a deterrent for a few weeks.

There wasn’t always much use in keeping an eye on Gotham’s morgues; when you grew up in the city, a part of you came to accept that death had a revolving door. But when Renee had told her that the GCPD was overrun, that they couldn’t even make time to listen to her, she’d let her gut lead her to what her head didn’t want to see. It wasn’t that there were a lot of bodies, though there were certainly…enough. It wasn’t even wholly the number of violent deaths that bothered her. It was that nobody was bragging about it.

The cops suspected a gang war – or, at least, made a good show of suspecting that that was all it was. Kate thought of a smile in the dark and knew that if she’d played a role in a single one of those deaths by not stopping a dangerous criminal when she had the chance, she’d never forgive herself.

There was an obvious option, one that might turn up new leads for both of her concerns, but even Kate hesitated to walk into the lion’s den without backup. That all her street-smarts hadn’t kept Renee from wandering into the Narrows to poke the hornet’s nest alone, even in clear daylight, still made her skin crawl. The symbol on Batwoman’s chest would just offer a more prominent target.

Much as she preferred the simplicity of working alone, it wasn’t like she was without allies. She could even think of two who might take her word on the urgency of the matter. One of them was in Bludhaven, last she knew. The other hadn’t shown what qualified as her face in days.

There was no easy way of summoning the Question other than to be in her path when she came looking. It hadn’t been much of a problem so far; an appearance usually precipitated a reason to work together, they’d never had to deal with the other way around. Kate loitered on the roof for a few more minutes, struck by the irrational feeling that she’d miss something by leaving. She had no reason to even expect that the Question would show up beyond being in the location that they’d last met.

Kate comforted herself with alternatives to soften the blow of finally giving up. She’d spend some time back at the penthouse before the night was over, planning in the heart and sending out feelers for Nightwing. If worse came to worst, she could always fall back on the tried and true method of doing something damned stupid.

Kate came to a stop a block away from her building, instincts taking over before she had even processed the need to respond. There was movement on the street below, a dark figure who made no effort to avoid the streetlights. Kate had a moment to feel the pulse of her heart through her head and then she was moving, thought and action simultaneous. She wasted no time debating the merits of good ideas or bad ideas, whirling around so that the red underside of her cape would flash unmistakably should anyone be looking for it. She ran, trusting that she’d be followed.

The docks were even colder than the rest of the city, but Kate hardly noticed, propelling herself to street level with practiced efficiency. She risked one glance behind her, imagined someone might have been moving in the dark, and kicked away the rotting door of a nearby warehouse. Once inside, she quickly assessed the space, taking stock of the lack of alternate exits, and then waited facing the door.

A familiar man stepped in to meet her, backlit by city light pouring in through the doorway. “I hope you meant for us to meet up here because I can’t think of a sketchier situation than following a woman into an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the night,” he said.

“I might be interested in doing things the hard way tonight,” she said. “Didn’t seem like a good idea to talk to a man so casual about his gun in the streets.”

“I’ve done my homework, Kane.” There went any hope of preserving her secret identity. “Strange to see a soldier so squeamish about a few bullets.”

“This isn’t a war.” She could taste the lie on her tongue even as she said it.

“Then you’re not fucking paying attention.” The man took a few steps forward.

Kate’s eyes narrowed, muscles tense. “And whose side are you on, exactly?”

“My own.” A few more steps. “And yours, maybe. If you get the fuck over yourself.”

The first move was clearly telegraphed. Kate saw the change in his stance, the precursor to momentum, and shifted her weight accordingly. It should have been the ideal start to a less than ideal fight; you wanted a stronger opponent to make the first move, to give you the opportunity to use their own force against them.

The man came at her fast, but in the second it took for Kate to sweep out her leg, he was suddenly _faster_. A step to the side that she felt before she saw it and a hand was reaching around from the back. She expected him to go for the hair – everybody went for the hair and the satisfaction of seeing their surprised faces when they found the wig never wore out its welcome. Instead, he pushed his hand a little bit farther, catching her by the back of the neck in a bruising grip. He continued the stream of his momentum, pushing her firmly to the floor where he pinned her with a knee against her back. Kate struggled, thrashing instinctively, trying to knock him off balance even a little bit, but he held steady.

“Relax,” he said, apparently oblivious to the absurdity of the word in its current context. “I just want to talk.”

“We could have done that standing up.” The words hissed out through her clenched teeth with less breath behind them than she would have liked. Intimidation techniques were decidedly less cool when you were the one being intimidated.

“Would you have listened or would you have kept looking at me like you were waiting for me to attack you?”

“You did attack me.”

“Yep. And now we can move on.” He shifted his knee, not allowing her to stand, but taking the pressure off so she could breathe easier. “Look, anyone dressing like a bat every night has to have a few screws loose, but you’re doing something. I respect that.” Kate let herself fall still, accepting the futility of the dead fish impression. For now. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What do you want?”

A familiar voice from on high, like an answered prayer: “Good question.”

The man rolled himself off her in a hurry and Kate took the initiative to push herself away as soon as she was free. Somehow, she was unsurprised to find a familiar trench coat blocking half her view.

Question tilted her hat in mock congeniality. “Batwoman.”

“Question.”

“I’m the Midnighter,” the man said, finding his feet easily. “Don’t leave me out of the party.”

Question turned, tension settling into her body. She spoke with a voice that was abruptly all business: “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“That mask,” the man – Midnighter said, gesturing in askance, “what’s it made of?”

“No, no, you have to win the battle before you start the interrogation.” Question rocked back, firming her stance, one fist extended. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

It was a good kick: precise and lots of power behind it without sacrificing too much speed. Kate already didn’t expect it to connect. Midnighter didn’t bother to dodge this time, catching Question’s foot before it could make contact with his side and then holding on, leaving her leg extended at an awkward angle. “Nice kick. You aiming to break my ribs, lady?”

“Your ribs, your face – I’m flexible,” Question said, voice calm despite the way her muscles strained as she tried unsuccessfully to free herself.

“That’s too bad. You won’t fool me twice.” A twist of the hand and the Question was sent sprawling, grunting as she hit the floor. Kate readied herself to step in, but hesitated as Midnighter turned and waved her off. “You can relax, I’m done wasting my time here.” And then he turned his back on both of them and spoke one word: “Door.”

Kate watched in disbelief as an orange rectangle of light opened up and Midnighter disappeared from the warehouse. From her spot on the floor, the Question summed up the situation with unflinching accuracy: “What the fuck was that?”

Kate leaned over bent knees, extending a hand. “We need to talk.”

 

* * *

 

It was a nice morning: overcast without the threat of rain. Kate idly watched people mill about through the café window as the hustle of the city began to set its pace. She and Renee had found a quiet corner, intimately cozy in a way that would have been inconvenient if they’d planned on eating or using their time out as anything but an excuse to spend time. They were left unbothered by the other patrons; the only reminder of their presence was the occasional tinkle of the bell above the door, the hiss of the espresso machine venting steam, and light chatter carrying from the front counter. And still the small table seemed a million miles long.

Renee frowned down at her phone and Kate echoed the expression. It was probably crazy controlling girlfriend territory to be counting the seconds since they last made eye contact. Kate clanked her spoon against her cup pointedly and tried to leave her irritation out of her voice: “New girlfriend?”

“What?” Renee’s head shot up as if surprised by the reminder of Kate’s presence. Her lips parted and she seemed unsure of her words for a moment before dropping her chin into her hand and laughing once. “No. Just a...friend.” Kate raised an eyebrow. “No, seriously. More of a friend of a friend.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “You’re being so evasive that I’m not even jealous anymore. Which friend?”

Renee’s good mood seemed to abruptly evaporate. She let her hand fall flat to the table and turned to face the window without seeming to look for anything in particular. “Some guy I knew. He passed away during...you know.”

Kate’s hand clutched at the handle of her cup in a brief involuntary spasm. Of course she knew. What a fucking year they’d all had. “I’m sorry.”

Renee shrugged as if to dismiss the apology. “He was a good guy. A good friend. I don’t have many of those.”

Kate stared down at her coffee and tried not to think of all the things that Renee didn’t know she was apologizing for. She had been so caught up in her own shit – in the space between her own trauma and her own joy at finding Renee alive and whole and almost on her way to well-adjusted after Intergang had tried to turn Gotham into ground zero for the apocalypse – that she hadn’t thought to wonder what Renee might have lost herself. She didn’t know if this was another thing the Religion of Crime should answer for and she couldn’t – how did you _ask_ something like that?

The scrape of a chair cut through her thoughts, snapping her to attention. A man was seating himself at their table, apparently unaware of or unbothered by what he’d interrupted. He leaned casually against the back of the chair, one leg crossed over his knee. He was well-dressed in an unremarkable way except for the sunglasses, which he shouldn’t have needed even outdoors. Kate saw no need to keep the bite out of her tone in light of the circumstances. “Yes? Can we help you?”

The man grinned, apparently unperturbed. “Sure hope so. I’m looking for someone.” Kate narrowed her eyes and the man’s smile widened. It was hard to be sure with the shades, but she got the impression that he was looking right at her, staring her down.

“I’m not taking any new clients right now,” Renee said, almost startling Kate. When Kate looked over, her lips were tight and she was treating their uninvited guest to one of the frostiest Sir-Do-You-Know-Why-I-Pulled-You-Over stares Kate had seen in years.

The man did shift then, leaning forward a little and dropping the grin in favour of a subtler, but no less amused smile. Kate experienced a moment of weird incongruity when he next spoke. What she expected to hear, what made sense in a way that her brain wanted to interpret was: _Well, that’s a shame, then_. What it sounded like he said was: “Well. Shame on me, then.”

If anything, Renee’s expression grew frostier, painfully tight lines stiffening around her eyes. “Like I said, Mr…”

“Lucas Trent. Drop the ‘mister’.”

“ _Mr_. Trent,” Renee said.

Trent shrugged, dropping his leg so both feet were planted on the floor. “Look, I can take my questions elsewhere. If you think the alternative will be friendlier.”

And for reasons Kate couldn’t fathom, despite looking mad enough to spit, Renee stood up from the table and said: “Outside. You’ve got five minutes.”

 

It was far too early for Batwoman to be out and about without cause, but as far as Kate was concerned, she’d already waited too long. She had been sure it was a mistake to let Renee wander off to speak with Trent alone when it happened. By the time she’d been able to place why that smile had struck her as so familiar…yeah, she wasn’t waiting.

Kate waited until Renee turned into the relative privacy of a side street before jumping to street level, landing hard even with the aid of the grapple gun. When she turned to look, Renee was watching her open mouthed. There was a flicker of something in her expression. Kate had seen it before when Wonder Woman was on tv – hero worship with a dash of the kind of distant attraction people saved for celebrities and other people they were never going to meet and had no chance with. Kate had never been jealous of it particularly; she was pretty sure every lesbian had an Amazon Thing. It had just never occurred to her that Renee might look at Batwoman the same way.

“You had a gentleman caller earlier,” Kate said because Batwoman had no investment in Renee individually and no reason not to be straight to business.

Renee seemed to recover some of her composure. She crossed her arms in a way that might have come across as angry posturing, but that Kate recognized as defensive. “I wouldn’t use either of those terms to describe him. You been following me?”

“He hired you to investigate for him.”

“Yes.”

“Did you accept?”

“Yes.”

“You got a license?” Kate Kane would have had to tiptoe around the elephant in the room, had been doing so for months already. Batwoman had no stakes in the answer and so was free to ask whatever questions she liked.

“Do you?” Renee’s posture had stiffened – a straight-backed professionalism that was all Detective Montoya. “As many vigilantes as there are in Gotham now, I’m sure you still have better things to do than worry about something even the GCPD isn’t interested in giving me a slap on the wrist for.”

“I’m not looking to arrest you,” Kate said. And then, hating herself for it: “I’m here to hire you.”

Renee paused, brow furrowing. Lightning quick intelligence danced in her eyes, trying to find what game was being played, searching for win conditions beyond what she’d expected. “I’ve got to admit, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“The man you spoke to was dangerous. But I’m assuming that telling you to drop the case wouldn’t do me any good.” Renee raised an eyebrow, mouth sliding sideways. _Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer_ was implied without words. “If you don’t have a license, you don’t have any legal obligation to client confidentiality.”

“No, but I can have standards.”

“Keep them, if he proves worthy of them. But if he’s bad news the way I think he is?” Kate very deliberately moved into Renee’s space, using the scant inches of extra height she had on her for all they were worth. “You report to me. I want to know what he’s up to and who he’s working with.”

Renee, to her credit, didn’t step back. “And how do you expect me to find you?” That wasn’t a ‘yes’, but it wasn’t a ‘no’ either.

“You don’t. I’ll find you,” Kate said. She launched her grapple back up the side of the nearest building and left Renee standing in the street.

 

* * *

 

The next few weeks were strange. Gotham’s active night life made a slow return; Kate harboured increasingly certain suspicions that the conveniently timed disappearance of both Lucas Trent and the man who called himself Midnighter had something to do with the turnabout. Hard as she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to turn up hide nor hair of either man and if it hadn’t been for Renee’s assurance that she and Trent were still in contact, Kate might have thought he’d actually left.

Batwoman was not by any means less busy just because her most recent problem seemed to have taken a leave. Quite the opposite. Gotham’s usual troublemakers were, if anything, more restless than usual and had made up for lost time by kicking up their usual brand of trouble with enthusiasm. She had gotten to punch Calendar Man in the face, though. That had been almost disturbingly cathartic.

Renee had been busy too. Kate Kane might have been a little too honest in her disapproval in Renee’s involvement with her latest case. Kate Kane and Renee were, therefore, not currently speaking much and had not been for the better part of two weeks. The week proceeding that had been mostly spent yelling.

Batwoman and Renee, on the other hand, were speaking quite a lot.

“We really need to work out a better system. All Jim Gordon has to do is turn on a flashlight when he needs to talk to his bat.” Renee had her hands stuffed in her pockets, shoulders hunched around her ears, and looked thoroughly miserable. Kate was torn between feeling badly and wanting to point out that no one had asked her to wait; Batwoman didn’t comment either way. “Spend all my time standing in the cold and I can’t even have a cigarette, god _damn_.” Kate hadn’t known Renee was quitting smoking. She hadn’t known that she’d started smoking in the first place.

“You have my attention,” Kate said, “so don’t waste my time.” Renee muttered a few colourful words that Kate politely didn’t acknowledge hearing and pulled a manila envelope from her shoulder bag. Rather than just turning the full package over, she took a moment to leaf through the contents before pulling out a couple of pages. “What’s this?”

“Arkham Asylum’s got some new hires. Custodial staff. Limited access. For now.”

Kate took the papers and scanned them quickly. It didn’t sound like anything out of the norm; Arkham’s staff had a notoriously high turnover rate. But Kate trusted Renee not to dwell on something obviously trivial. If she thought it was worth looking into, there was probably something there. “And Trent?”

Renee’s face creased, jaw clenching. Kate noted she didn’t make eye contact as she proceeded to completely avoid the question. “These dudes don’t add up. Their employee files are almost complete gibberish. A slightly more convincing version of _lorem ipsum_.”

So, not good news then. It would have been great if Arkham could get their shit together before hell froze over. “Did Trent hack Arkham’s personnel files? Or did you?”

Renee’s eyes darted quickly toward her and then away. “They’ve got no paper trail.”

“Neither does Trent.”

Renee’s mouth pulled into something half way between a grimace and a smile. “Somebody’s done her homework.”

Renee surely had as well; she wasn’t stupid. “Are we going to talk about what I hired you to do?”

“Are you even paying me?”

“You’ll be fairly compensated. For _useful_ information.”

Renee finally turned to look at her, eyes tracking shortly over her masked face. She sighed and bit her lip, hands settling back into her pockets. “Look, I’m walking a fine line here. I respect what you people do and I’m trying to be honest with you, but I’m not going to throw my client under the bus for that. He’s not what you think.”

“And what is it that I think?”

“I don’t know. But he’s not…that bad a guy. Whatever’s going on here that has you jumping off rooftops, he’s not the cause of it.” Renee paused, brows tightening over hard eyes. “He’s the consequence.”

Kate studied her sidelong, trying to be subtle about it. She knew that look; somewhere along the line, Renee had let things get personal. The only question was why. “That’s cryptic. Is asking going to get me a more straightforward answer from you?”

“Probably not.”

Kate waited until Renee looked away to take her leave, lingering on top of an overhanging awning just to listen to her swear a blue streak when she realized she was alone. It was tempting to follow her, see where she went. Make sure she was safe. She didn’t follow through on the impulse. Renee was a big girl; justified or not, she wouldn’t thank her for hovering. And Kate had a whole city to stand guard over. She couldn’t abandon the rest for one person, even if that one person was Renee.

 

“What do you think?”

The Question had her elbows propped up on the railing of the fire escape, hands cupped over an approximation of where her mouth might be. She seemed focused on the opposite wall of the alley, presumably deep in thought. Kate wondered when Question had become the person she went to when she needed someone to listen. Someone who conveniently had no ties to her personal life to get in the way.

“I think that fixing Arkham’s security problems is above our paygrade,” Question finally said. “I also think that if these guys were smart, they’d have covered their tracks better. If this is the extent of the problem, something tells me it’ll take care of itself. Arkham’s frequent guests aren’t known for their gratitude; anyone this green who tries to spring them is as good as dead.”

“I agree,” Kate said. The problems with Gotham’s penal system were miles deep. It wasn’t that it didn’t bother her, but where the police department was the ounce of prevention, herself, Batman, Question, and all the other capes in the city were the pound of cure. They were the clean up crew you called when the system broke down because change was slow and people were scared _now_. “But someone got them in there.”

“Someone on the outside is someone we can touch.” The Question’s voice sounded the way a smile looked. “Unfortunate for them.”

“Assuming we bother. I seem to recall us having plenty of conspiracies on our plate already.”

“You don’t think they’re connected?” There was something careful in the Question’s tone – neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Controlled. Neutral.

“I think it would all tie together a little too neatly if that were the case,” Kate said. “I also think that there are a hell of a lot of coincidences piling up if they’re _not_.”

“Mm. Don’t much believe in those.”

“Neither do I.” Kate took a breath, eyes sliding narrowly to watch for Question’s reaction. “So, I think it’s worth considering that we’re being driven to look in a very specific direction.”

Question didn’t move for a long moment. When she straightened it was slow, a careful unfolding of the body. She left the fingers of one hand wrapped around the railing. “You think someone’s playing us?”

“Midnighter’s involved.”

A pause. And then low: “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“You think he’s behind this?”

“That, I’m not so sure of.” The words were bitter, they felt like a concession. They also felt like the truth. “But I think we need to be prepared for a scenario where we need to fight him again.”

Question snorted, startling Kate with the unexpectedly unguarded reaction. “Because that went so well last time.”

“No one’s unbeatable.” Kate considered the question that had been on her mind for weeks, weighed need against trust, and then decided to go for it. “What’s the mask made of?”

Question’s hand tightened on the rail, knuckles stark through her dark gloves. Kate had the sense that she was being assessed just as carefully. “Why?”

“Because he told me the computer in his head could predict every tool in my arsenal, but he had to ask you. And you surprised him.”

There was a considering silence before the Question nodded, hand slipping off the railing to rest loosely by her side. “I don’t have any more, if that’s what you’re thinking. With luck, nobody else does either.”

“Then we’ll just have to use what we have.” Kate smiled, sharp edged, but genuine. It had been far too long since she’d felt like she’d had an ace up her sleeve. It may not have been much of an advantage, but it was something she could work with. “I’ll be in touch. Don’t skip town.”

Kate got as far as latching her grapple on the ledge of the opposite building before Question spoke again. “Batwoman.”

Kate half turned, tilting her head in invitation. The Question’s posture had tensed, spine locked stiff and straight under tight shoulders. Still, she said nothing, the delay making Kate feel unduly anxious. “If there’s nothing else,” she said, irritated.

“Just,” Question said and stopped, face turning away as if to break her gaze. “Watch your back.”

“Always do,” Kate said. _That’s what I’ve got you for_ , she thought. She was disturbed by how quickly that had become true.

 

* * *

 

It took Kate minutes after stepping into her apartment to know that something was wrong. It was hard to point to what specifically tipped her off – maybe a million little things that put her on edge now that she had the experience to know what to look for. The last home invasion hadn’t ended well for anybody; learning from her mistakes was something that Kate did very, very well.

She stood still, caught in the open frame of a doorway. Frozen, but not stuck. Waiting, thinking, preparing. Afraid, but letting her fear sharpen her mind. Heart loud, but steady. She could run for the heart, get herself armed, get to the cameras, lock herself in, get herself out. But if things went sideways, if she miscalculated, she’d be leading the enemy right into the last place she ever wanted them to find.

Two clear paths then. Kitchen – _knife_. Bedroom – _gun_. The kitchen was open space, harder to defend, but more exits. The better choice if she didn’t want to be pinned down. Besides, the goal wasn’t to hole up and hope the problem went away. The goal was to get the fucker who’d dared _out_.

Kate’s footfalls echoed too loud, the dark rendering every shadow a potential threat, but she didn’t stop long enough to kick off her shoes. The kitchen wasn’t far anyway. She skid a little on the tile floor, kept her footing, and yanked open a drawer in one continuous motion. She had just wrapped her fingers around the handle of a steak knife when a hand landed on her shoulder. Kate twisted, bringing her new weapon up, and another hand found her wrist, holding it stationary.

“Stop,” a familiar voice said, “it’s just me.”

“Let me go.” Kate hissed the words out through gritted teeth, craning her head to see where Midnighter stood behind her.

“Can you keep a cool head?”

She glared. “Frosty.”

As soon as he loosened his grip, she whipped around and punched him in the face. He took it with barely a flinch, she knew it only happened because he’d let her do it, but damn if it wasn’t satisfying. “You done?” he asked.

“For now,” she said, shaking out her stinging knuckles, knife still tight in her other hand. “If you explain what you’re doing here in the next thirty seconds.”

“You’ve been compromised. You were poking around and now there are people on the way to make you stop.” He returned his grip – to her upper arm this time, apparently ready to take the risk of getting punched. Or stabbed. “We’re going.”

She pulled away and, to his credit, he let go immediately. “I’m getting my uniform first.”

She expected him to protest, but instead he just nodded. “Sure, go get the work clothes.” He smiled, the same manic grin she remembered from the docks, and cracked his knuckles. “I’ll make your guests feel welcome.”

Kate didn’t hesitate in making for the movable wall. She was probably insane to trust a word Midnighter said. There was the sound of glass breaking behind her and she cursed furiously to herself. She’d just finished fixing the hole from last time.

A calm washed over her the moment she laid eyes on Batwoman, waiting patiently for her arrival. Kate had never suited up so fast in her life, but she was still compressing her hair for the wig when Midnighter burst in. There were several feelings that washed over her: violation that he had entered the space that only she and her father had ever set foot in, concern for the blood she could see even against the dark surface of his clothing, worry that he had joined her so quickly. “Problem?” she asked.

“Not anymore,” he said, giving the room a quick once over before apparently dismissing it. Kate couldn’t help feeling a little offended. “There’ll be more, though. You can’t be here when they figure out that round one failed.”

“I’ve got a bike downstairs.”

“As much as a high speed motorcycle chase through Gotham City would fill me with delight, I’ve got my own transportation. Door.” Kate watched as a familiar rectangle of orange light opened itself up in front of her. Up close, she could vaguely make out the details of a room on the other side. And then there was a hand on her back and Midnighter was shoving her through.

 

Midnighter’s apartment was almost disturbingly normal. Not quite the level of luxury that Kate’s penthouse offered, but spacious and functional and clean. A place that most people would be happy to live in. A place that someone was clearly taking care of. There was a collection of books and healthy potted plants and a handful of personal photos (she was utterly unsurprised to note that some of them included Lucas Trent). It was hard to make them match up with the blood-drenched man who’d entered behind her.

Question was already there when they arrived, seated conspicuously on a stool by the kitchen island. She looked strange without the impractical trench coat that Kate had come to accept as her signature, one arm bandaged near the shoulder. “You’re not dead,” Question said and sounded genuinely relieved to be able to say it.

“Neither are you,” Kate said before jerking her chin in gesture to the bandaging. “Though clearly not for lack of trying.”

“I’m going to go change,” Midnighter said, already walking toward the stairs. “There’s beer in the fridge. Help yourself.”

“Right,” Kate said, fully intending to do no such thing. Still, she turned to Question, feeling a grim smile tug at her lips and asked: “Do you want one?”

“No mouth,” Question said, shrugging apologetically. It occurred to Kate that there was probably a very limited benefit to maintaining their secret identities at this point. It occurred to her that Question was probably the only person involved in this whole fiasco who didn’t already know. It occurred to her that Question probably knew this too. Neither of them suggested removing their masks.

When Midnighter rejoined them, he came down the stairs in a t-shirt and sweats, hair unkempt. “Mr. Trent,” Kate said, voice deliberately flat.

He waved a hand, snorting as he pulled up a chair beside them. “Fake name, but use it if you want. Otherwise, you’ll have to settle for Midnighter.”

“Honestly, your name is the least of my concerns right now,” Kate said. “How about somebody explains what the hell is going on here. Who were those people at my apartment?”

“The bad guys,” Midnighter said. “As you can see, I’m not with them.”

“But I’ll bet you know who they are.”

Midnighter turned and smiled irritatingly at her. “I’ve got some guesses. Bet you do too, if you think about it.”

“I’m thinking our Arkham boys had more friends on the outside than we thought,” Question said.

“Slightly fewer now.” Midnighter’s grin widened.

Kate shook her head. “I’m not saying it’s not related, but we only just started looking into Arkham. This is too soon to just be about that.”

“How about,” Midnighter said, “instead of talking past each other, we lay all our information out on the table and figure out what we actually know. Like I would have suggested doing weeks ago if you people had been civil enough to have a conversation.”

“The first time I met you, you shot a man.”

“If I didn’t, he would have shot _you_. And I could have done a lot worse.” Midnighter didn’t quite lose his smile, but his eyes narrowed shrewdly. “And unless those blades you carry are just for show, I’m betting you could’ve too.”

“I would normally never say this, but I agree with the scary man in leather,” Question said. “Let’s worry less about the people who may or may not have been trying to kill us before and worry more about the people who are definitely trying to kill us now.”

“So, we’ve got Tweedledum and Tweedledee pulling weeds at Arkham, who we all agree are messing with things they shouldn’t, but aren’t smart enough to have put out a hit themselves,” Midnighter said. “And then we’ve got the enhanced freaks someone sent after you, who all definitely know who you two are.”

“Enhanced?” Kate asked.

“I fought a few of them before Midnighter arrived. Something was up,” Question said.

“I’ve got my own theories about what that might be,” Midnighter said. “I’m gonna share, but I’m interested in hearing what you two have dug up already.”

“People have been disappearing,” Question said. “Not a lot of them and most of them the type that have nobody to miss them, but here and there.”

“Gotham had a quiet couple of weeks,” Kate said, “but I put a lot of that down to our friend here.”

“Some of it maybe. Apparently your criminals aren’t used to people actually shooting back at them. That said, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not particularly interested in subtlety.”

“What a surprise.” Question’s voice was dry enough to give the Sahara Desert a run for its money. “There’s a good chance that Midnighter temporarily surprised the usual troublemakers into laying low while they figured out how to handle him. There’s also a good chance that we’ll find out in a few days that one of them has been taking advantage of the situation to work on something nasty. There’s even a good chance that the enhanced goons no doubt currently ransacking both of our places took measures to silence a few people. But some of the disappearances are too targeted and have been too permanent. Some of the leads might amount to nothing, but I’d bet money that someone’s been amassing a number of very desperate people for…something. Something they might not come back from.”

That made far too much add up and Kate's blood was suddenly boiling beneath her skin. There were people disappearing off her streets and bodies in the morgue. There were shipping crates with no hired manpower to receive the contents, but you wouldn't need it, would you? If the only cargo you were interested in moving were people who might have been convinced to let you move them. Kate thought of Renee’s eyes, tilted up to meet hers and coffee cold and forgotten on the kitchen table. Frowning she pulled the _Second Life_ flyer from her pouch, unfolding it on the island so they could all see it. “Have either of you heard of this before?”

Oddly, Question and Midnighter exchanged a glance. Kate’s eyes narrowed, something unidentifiable thrumming through her. “I might have heard something,” Question said, “from a few leads.”

“For the missing people?”

“Yes.”

“I think this is where I start talking,” Midnighter said, leaning forward to rest his elbow casually on his knees. “Did I mention the computer in my brain that tells me how to kill people?”

“You might have,” Kate said. “Once or twice.”

“Right. So, I have that and a handful of other party tricks that I wasn’t born with. Someone _made_ me.”

Kate had a sinking feeling about where this was all going. “That someone still alive?”

“Unfortunately,” Midnighter said in a voice that promised _not for much longer_. “But he’s not my primary concern right now – where he left his tech lying around very much _is_. The thing about people who spend their lives trying to create a bigger gun is that they don’t worry about who might pull the trigger on the last one.”

“You think whoever we’re dealing with has weapons designed by the person who made you?” Question said. “Because that sounds bad.”

“Oh, it’s worse than that. I think he’s trying to recreate me. Just without of any of the inconvenient extra features.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I was designed to be a weapon, but they at least left me with enough free will to choose where to aim myself.”

“Jesus,” Question said, fingers suddenly tight on the edge of the counter, as if she needed help balancing. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Take your mask off first,” Kate said, feeling much the same way.

“Most of them probably volunteered for it,” Midnighter said. “If life screws you hard enough, there are a lot of bad things that start sounding like good ideas. You’d _die_ for a scrap of power.”

“Or kill for it,” Question said.

“Don't need to be desperate to be willing to do that. Plenty of people at the top willing to cut the little guy’s throat to save a penny. I’m betting our would-be mad scientist is one of those.” Midnighter’s grin spread slowly, revealing more teeth than felt strictly necessary. “There are only two pieces of good news in this whole mess. One: I'm the bigger guy and I'm even better at cutting throats. Check my resume. Two: I don’t think he’s got it figured out yet. He’ll be looking for me.” And then, shrugging like they weren’t discussing Gotham’s latest supervillain dissecting him for spare parts, he said: “I might have painted a target on your back by trying to talk to you before. Sorry.” He even sounded like he meant it.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting myself in trouble, so don’t go trying to take credit for that,” Kate said. “I’m involved. How do we find him?”

“The Narrows,” Question said. “Whatever’s going on, it all keeps leading back there.”

“Why? What’s he so interested in?”

“Why do you think?” Midnighter said. “You put a bomb next to a box of matches and keep hoping nobody will light the fuse.” Arkham. Shit. The only thing that she could imagine being actively worse than an army of cybernetic super soldiers was an army of cybernetic super soldiers that included Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Two-Face, and the Joker.

“You’ve got a plan, right?” Question said. “Isn’t that kind of your whole thing?”

“Right now, the plan is we wait,” Midnighter said, standing up smoothly and stretching his back out. “Exciting, I know. Technically I was supposed to lay low until my partner got back, but he’s behind schedule and someone needed to save your asses.”

Kate’s brow furrowed. Every time she’d run into Midnighter, he’d been acting alone as far as she could tell. She hard a time imagining him playing well with others. “Where is your partner?”

“Following up on a lead. Don’t worry, he can handle himself.”

“Sounds like you’re worried anyway,” Question said. Her voice was oddly gentle.

“Of course I am.” There was a strange vulnerability on Midnighter’s face and Kate found herself looking away, suddenly uncomfortable. “Look, there’s only one bed up in the loft, but I’ve got some couches down here. Split yourselves up however you want – I’ll wake you if anything changes.”

“You can have first crack at the bed,” Question said. “I don’t think I’ll sleep much anyway.” Kate knew when someone was trying to get her out of the way, but she was tired and it solved the mask problem, so she went without complaint.

On her way she stopped Midnighter, catching him by the elbow. She pitched her voice low: “About Renee –”

Midnighter looked at her oddly. “She’s safe; I don’t throw innocent civilians into the line of fire.” It sounded like the truth.

“Good. That’s. Good.” Kate hesitated, let her hand slip away as she looked to the stairs. “Did you kill those men at my apartment?”

“No. Regardless of what you think of me, I won’t kill someone for being vulnerable to the kind of asshole who’d use them as canon fodder. Not if there’s another way.” He frowned, leaning heavily against the wall. “It wasn't a mercy. When they come back to themselves, they might wish that I _had._ ”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “So, why are you really waiting around? You don’t strike me as the order following type.”

“Think you’ve got me all figured out, do you? For all you know, I like ‘em bossy.”

“It’s the Question’s mask, isn’t it? She almost hit you in that warehouse. Your computer’s not so infallible after all.”

“Good eye, Kane. I can still _see_ her, but it’s like looking at a computer screen with the pixels dying. One of our mutual friend’s more irritating qualities.” He clenched a fist, smiling like he’d remembered something funny. Looking at him, Kate thought that they probably had very different definitions of the word. “For the record, I’m more than my computer. I can kick someone’s teeth in just fine without it.”

“Why not just leave her out of it then?”

“She’s handy; sometimes even I have a use for a good detective. And she’s got a mouth under all the – you know.” He gestured to encompass his own face. “Besides, you were wrong. She’s not the reason.” Kate quirked an eyebrow, curious more than she was insulted. “A certain someone didn’t like the thought of anyone looking at my schematics. He’s worried that they’ve found a back door that I don’t know about.” And then, softly: “Idiot.”

A partner. A partner he really, genuinely cared about. Turns out there really was someone out there for everyone. “I hope your partner comes back soon.”

“He can handle it. And if he can’t, I will.” His fist tightened, muscles bunching along his arm. “Nobody’s going to be happy if I have to handle it.”

 

Kate woke to the low murmur of voices. It had taken her some time to fall asleep in the first place. Renee had been the only person she’d shared space with in a number of years and sleeping was not often her chief concern when she stayed over. She lay still in the dark, finding herself focusing on the words without trying.

Midnighter’s voice: “Relax, Detective. It’d take some time before they found us even if they had the technology to make doors. Which I doubt.”

“You found me pretty quickly.” That was the Question.

“I’m pretty exceptional.” The Midnighter’s boast was followed by a small pause before he continued, a little quieter. “Why do you bother with it anyway? The whole secret identity thing?”

“I chose to put myself in harm’s way. The people close to me didn’t.” There was a wooden groaning; in Kate’s mind’s eye, Question leaned back in her chair, arms casually crossed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had anyone you wanted to keep safe, Midnighter.”

“Sure. Does it work?”

The responding silence was telling even before Question bit out a terse two-word reply: “It’s Gotham.”

“And Gotham’s a shithole, but at least you all know it. Things break bad every day, Detective, but it’s always a surprise because everyone thinks they’re safe until they’re not.”

“You’re either depressingly realistic or you're one paranoid son of a bitch.”

“I’ve been told. But I’m _alive_.” Another lull in the conversation, long enough this time that Kate half expected it to drop off entirely.  “You can rest easy; you do a decent job of covering your tracks. It wasn’t you I followed.”

A sharp scraping sound followed by a clatter and a bang. Kate was thundering down the stairs before she had a second to think. She reached the bottom to see the Question with Midnighter pinned against the wall, one forearm pushing against his sternum.

“Question,” Kate said, snapping the word with military precision.

Question turned to look at her and then stopped cold. “Kate.”

Kate startled, speechless for a moment, and then brought one hand up to touch her face. Oh. _Oh_. No mask.

“Well. Awkward,” Midnighter said. The Question shoved away from him, face tilted toward the floor.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it.” He looked in between them and then cleared his throat. “I’m going to give you two some time to talk.”

“I can’t say that I was planning on doing this tonight, but –” Kate shrugged, trying for calm and collected “– not the end of the world, really. I trust you.”

Question fiddled with something on her belt, taking an audible breath. “We’ll see how you feel when you have all the facts.” Question was abruptly engulfed in a cloud of smoke. Kate recoiled, turning her face away instinctively. When she looked back, Question was already peeling off her mask, revealing the face underneath.

“Renee?”

“Hi, Kate.”

 

Kate sat with her head in her hands, trying to process. There were, upon reflection, a lot of signs that she had missed. Or had chosen deliberately to ignore. Renee was hovering uncertainly nearby.

“When were you going to tell me?” Kate asked.

“I don’t know. Eventually. Time never seemed right.”

Kate nodded like any of it made any kind of sense. The worst part was she wasn’t even that mad at Renee. Some part of her had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, had been prepared for Renee to let her down eventually – and that probably said all kinds of unpleasant things about the person she was. The Question, on the other hand? That felt like a betrayal. “Did _you_ know?” she asked.

“Not…the whole time. But for a while, yeah.”

“How long?”

“Kate –”

“Days? Weeks? Long enough to watch me run around trying to keep tabs on both of you? Long enough to –” It had been Renee the whole damn time. Renee had fed her information and let her talk about it like it was something new with her alter ego. Renee had let her have the same conversation twice over and played it differently each time. “I’m such an _idiot_.”

“You’re not,” Renee said, sounding sympathetic and _sorry_ and other things that Kate was absolutely not interested in hearing. “It’s not like I was trying to peek. You’ve never known how to hide who you are.”

It was probably meant to be a compliment, but Kate’s pride was a wounded and screaming thing – she just didn’t know how to read it that way. “You’ve never known how to do anything else.”

There was silence, the air thick with old hurt, and then a sharp smack. Kate turned to see that Renee had run her fist into the wall. “You know what? Go to hell, Kate.” Renee wasn’t yelling; it almost would have been easier if she was. Renee’s temper had once been such a tight, controlled thing, but now Kate could almost see it roiling on the surface of her skin. Another story she didn’t know. “You want to talk about trust? Well, it goes both ways. You don’t get to act like you were wronged here – we _both_ lied. We _both_ get to be hurt about this. But it’s all out on the table, so get over it and move on.” Kate very deliberately turned her face away. Renee snorted derisively. “Great. Come find me when you’re ready to grow up.”

 

It was hard to sulk effectively when you shared a space with two other people who were having an argument. Kate had retreated to the couches, intending to seclude herself until there was a cue to mobilize and her presence became an objective necessity. She knew herself well enough to know that if Renee tried to apologize right now, things would probably end badly between them. If Renee didn’t, it would go even worse.

Instead, judging by the increasingly raised voices, Renee had found a new target to yell at. “That’s bullshit. This is a bad idea and you know it.”

“I don't do bad ideas. I analyzed all the contingencies in the time it took you to process what was happening. This is what I do. When the devil knocks, I break down his front door,” Midnighter said, just as loud. No one could ever accuse him of not giving as good as he got.

“I don't think you're half as in control of this situation as you think you are. If you were being objective about this, you'd wait until we have more information.”

“Would you say that if it was _her_?”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Don’t waste your time asking questions you already know the answer to.” There was a brief scuffling sound and it was right then that Kate decided that her feelings would have to take a time out until she figured out what was going on.

She debated putting the mask back on, for the feeling of security more than anything else, but it would have been a pointless gesture. Instead, she rounded the stairs barefaced to see Midnighter looming over Renee and Renee actually shoving a finger in his face. “I get it, Midnighter, and if she wasn’t involved, then I might be right there with you,” Renee said, fast and tense and low. “But she is and I’m having a rare moment of clarity, so let’s take advantage of it and come up with a smarter play. We both know that if you were sure about this, you wouldn't need my permission - you'd already be gone.”

“The only thing keeping me here is the modicum of respect I have for you. I could have put you through the floor already. I know how this whole thing ends. You can get out of my way or I can _make_ you, Detective.”

“Hit me if it’ll make you feel better, but it’s not just your life on the line here. Charging in half-cocked won’t help –”

“I’m _always_ full-cocked. I’ve got a computer in my brain that –”

“ _Yes_. I know that. And so do they.”

“Someone want to fill me in?” Kate asked. The two held firm to their positions, glaring at each other.

“There’s been contact with our mystery man,” Renee said. “Midnighter received a threat.”

“An invitation,” Midnighter said.

Kate’s heart sank. Midnighter didn’t seem like the kind of guy someone who fancied himself a chess master would threaten. Not unless he thought he had leverage. “How did they contact you?”

“By using a special frequency with a direct line to the computer in my head. It’s Apollo’s.”

“Your partner?” Kate asked even though she knew the answer before she got the nod of confirmation.

“Cowboy cop over here wants to stroll in through the front door,” Renee said. She finally pulled back, crossing her arms in disgust.

“They’d never see it coming.”

Kate considered for a moment. She couldn’t honestly say that she’d want to play it any differently in the same situation. And there was something to be said about the direct approach. “He’s not wrong.” She walked up to Midnighter and looked at him, appraising. Carefully, she reached up and ruffled the hair on his head, seeing how mussed she could get it. “How well can you play homeless and desperate?”

 

“Security on the door is light,” Kate said. “I don’t like that. They should have been expecting a rescue attempt.”

“Probably means they’ve got a trap waiting somewhere else,” Renee said. It was impossible to read her expression with the mask over her face, but she sounded uneasy.

“Good,” Midnighter said. “I could do with some stress relief.”

“The plan is to avoid confrontation for as long as possible,” Kate said. “Just reminding you.”

“If they have Apollo locked in their fucking basement,” Midnighter said, voice like wheels on gravel, “there is going to be _confrontation_.”

It was strange seeing Midnighter actively unkempt. Stranger even than seeing him in his regular civvies had been. They’d cut holes in his jeans and slightly separated the soles of his shoes and ripped a judicious button off of his shirt. He’d frowned at them the whole time – to go by his apartment, he was apparently a surprisingly neat guy – but he’d let them do it. He smelled strongly enough of booze to make Kate’s eyes water, even standing upwind, though they’d left him deadly sober. He’d even contributed by punching himself once, alarmingly, in the face. “For authenticity,” he’d said, eye already swelling. “I’m not much of an actor and the healing factor will handle it anyway.”

“I’ll keep him out of trouble,” Renee said. She was shivering slightly, still without her coat, fine tremors running up and down her arms.

“You can try,” he said. Renee ignored him and tucked her hair tight under the black ski cap she’d exchanged for her usual fedora. “Weird to see you without the hat, Detective.”

“Weird to _be_ without it. But I’d rather leave it behind than lose it and, besides, this is a sneaking mission.” Midnighter smirked in response to a joke that only he understood. Kate was reminded that Midnighter had known Renee’s secret before she did and was suddenly furious all over again. They shouldn’t have been going on a mission like this, angry and barely speaking to each other. It was a bad idea all over. She shouldn’t let Renee walk into a trap without saying the kinds of things you were supposed to say when your loved one was in danger, but she couldn’t make the words pass her lips.

“I won’t let any harm come to your girlfriend,” Midnighter said. Kate startled, realizing that he was watching her openly. “Stop worrying.”

Kate opened her mouth to answer and then stopped. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d intended to say. _She’s not my girlfriend_ , maybe. Or perhaps _I’m not worried_. The latter was definitely a lie even if the first might yet prove true. “Okay,” she said instead.

 

Midnighter went in first. Kate watched, trying not to feel anxious, as he spoke to the two men outside the door, handing them the crumpled _Second Life_ flyer. He stumbled a little, forcing one of the men to catch him under the arm. “He’s laying it on too thick,” Kate said. “They’re going to figure him out.”

“He’s fine,” Renee said. “He wouldn’t have agreed to your plan if it wasn’t going to work.”

As they watched, the door opened and the man holding Midnighter’s arm led him inside. The second man resumed his post, looking bored. “And then there was one,” Renee said. “Guess that’s my cue.”

Renee slipped away, disappearing from sight momentarily. Kate held her breath until she saw the second guard fall, Renee offering a jaunty little wave before moving through the door. “Whatever it is about your mask that messes with the fight computer, at least we can be sure that it works on these guys too,” Kate said, trusting that her earpiece would pick up her voice even at its low volume. “You still haven’t told me what it’s made of.”

There was a pause and then: “I’ll tell you the whole story. Later – when I’m not breaking into the killer robot man factory.”

Kate’s job was the least immediately dangerous of the bunch, but as far as she was concerned, it was also the worst. She got to wait outside and watch the building for activity while trusting her two compatriots to notify her the minute things went sideways. Even logically knowing that they should stay off the comms as much as possible, her stomach was twisting itself in knots for every minute she spent in silence. At last, she couldn’t help herself: “Question. Update?”

“It’s damn quiet, even inside,” Renee said. “I don’t like this one bit.”

“We knew it was a trap. Quit complaining about it,” Midnighter said.

“Should you be talking on the comms?” Kate asked.

“They’ve left me alone while they go get their boss.”

“Are you going to stay put like a good boy?” Renee asked.

A snort. “Not on your life.”

A moment of silence before there was a sharp, clanging sound from Renee’s connection. “I’m going down a level – see if you can find a way to join me from where you are. Might be that your boy really is in the basement.” There was a vocalization that was almost a growl from Midnighter’s end and then pounding footsteps.

“It doesn’t sound like either of you are being subtle,” Kate said.

“Relax, this isn’t my first rodeo,” Renee said. “Now shush – I’m trying to sneak.”

There was silence for a long time after that and Kate almost had to sit on her hands to keep from asking again. The worst part of it all was that it was her plan. “This is why I work alone. Less guilt.” She was just debating changing her position, scoping the building out from a different angle, when the comms came alive with vigorous swearing that was distinctly Renee. “ _Status_.”

“We found Apollo,” Renee said, voice even despite the anger that Kate could hear under it. “It looks like they’ve had him for a while. The Midnighter’s pissed.”

Kate’s gut clenched, suddenly horrified by the probability that she hadn’t considered – that none of them even discussed. “Has he been –” She couldn’t even bring herself to finish the question.

There was a tense pause and then: “No. Not for lack of trying. God, Kate –” the use of her wallet name was jarring, it wasn’t like Renee to slip up like that “– they’ve been infecting people with these – these _nanites_. They didn’t account for Apollo’s alien physiology, thank god.”

“I’m sorry, did you say _alien_ physiology?” Kate couldn’t comment on the rest without punching something. There was another pause. Renee must have been talking to Apollo and Midnighter off the comms, Kate realized. When the audio returned, Kate could catch pieces of Midnighter’s ranting in the background (“– blocking solar energy. I’m going to rip his spine out through his asshole –”).

“Yes, apparently alien physiology. This is all so fucked.” There was barely decipherable shouting and then Midnighter’s voice breaking through as if from a distance (“– Detective, on your six –”). “ _Shit_.”

“ _Renee_.” Kate’s hands were bunched hard enough that she would have drawn blood if she wasn’t wearing gloves.

“We found the trap,” Renee said. “Or, I guess, it found us. Stay put, Batwoman, we’re coming at you hot.”

“No, I’m coming in –”

“Dammit, Kate, _don’t_. We’re not sticking around.”

Kate hesitated, half way to standing, need warring with her better judgement. Slowly, she settled back into a crouch. “Leave the damn comm on. If you stop talking, I come after you.”

“Roger that.” What followed were some of the worst moments of Kate’s life accompanied by too much audio and not enough context.

“Midnighter, they –”

“I _know_ , Detective.” A grunt followed by furious shouting. “I’m going to kick your ass straight off your body and then what’s left of your legs can take me to your leader.”

“Damn, what are they –” a gunshot, Renee cursing with feeling “– Why do the bad guys always have nicer guns than me? What are they even _shooting_?”

“Localized EMP blasts, but nastier. Must have been designed for me.” A brief moment of silence punctuated by a sharp, indiscernible _crack_. “I’m honoured - and kind of impressed. Too bad they can’t hit me.”

Gunshots. More shouting.

“Midnighter – hey, back off, I’m talking here.” A pained grunt. Renee breathing hard. “Midnighter, you need to carry Apollo out of here. He’s got like –” more gunshots “- forty pounds on me.”

“Think I’m gonna let you –” a sharp crack, screaming that ended suddenly “- have all the fun?”

“Use that big computer brain of yours. You see any other way –” a grunt (Renee’s), a curse (someone else’s) “- we all walk out of here?”

“Yes.”

There was what could optimistically be described as a scream.

“Oh, _Christ_ –”

“Sorry, Detective.” A sound Kate didn’t want to try to identify. “I said I wasn’t with the bad guys. I never said I was a good one.”

A voice that Kate didn’t recognize, faint but audible: “Midnighter –”

“Shut up.” Smack. Gunshot. Scream. “Be disappointed in me later. I’m getting you out of here.”

 

By the time Renee stumbled out the front door, awkwardly supporting a man almost a foot taller than her and bulky despite his withered appearance, Kate’s thoughts had been reduced to a high frequency hum of panic. She propelled herself to ground level, running to meet up with them as Renee gently lowered the man – Apollo? – to the ground. She reached out to steady Renee as she staggered, looking ashen even beneath the mask, but Renee shook her off. “Don’t. Just – not right now. I need a minute.”

Midnighter followed shortly, raising a hand to shade his eyes as he stepped out from the building’s dimly lit interior. If Kate had thought there’d been a lot of blood after the fight at the apartment – how could he look so composed when it was on his _face_. Somehow, Kate found the courage for anger. “You knew – before you even went in, you _knew_ it was going to come to that.”

“If you were being realistic about this, you would have known too. Sometimes there isn’t another way.” His expression hadn’t shifted, but he did turn to look at her. It was hard to get a good read on what he felt about what he’d done, if anything. The set of his shoulders could have been either unaffected or just tired. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t actually enjoy it that much. Which is a shame - I almost never get in a group brawl with superhumans. But they weren’t my real target.”

Kate’s fists clenched at her sides, muscles shaking with the effort of something undefinable. She took a half step forward, uncertain what she meant to do, but was stopped by a hand on her arm. “We all would have died, Kate,” Renee said. “I can’t say that I like it either, but…”

Midnighter stared at them both for a moment longer before offering them a brief nod. He turned, walked to where Apollo lay, and sank to his knees. “Hey, handsome. Next time you don’t text back, I’m calling the army.”

Apollo blinked slowly up at him. “Thought you were the army.”

“You always did know how to flatter a guy.” Midnighter closed his eyes as Apollo reached up, heedless of the blood, and gently dragged his face down until their foreheads rested together.

 _Oh_ , Kate realized, _partner_. She turned away, the faint flush of embarrassment prickling at her neck. “We should regroup,” she said. “Figure out how we’re going to track down the man behind all of this so that it _never_ happens again.”

Renee shook her head. “No. Something doesn’t feel right. I’m missing something.”

“Not that I don’t trust your intuition, but I’m going to hate it if you’re right.”

They both turned at Apollo’s sharp cry: “Midnighter!”

Midnighter was still down on his knees, but Kate had the terrifying impression that it wasn’t by choice. One hand was pressed against the ground, raking the dirt with his fingers. The other hand clutched at his head, a pained grimace on his face.

“Midnighter?” Renee was a tense presence at Kate’s side, already settling into a fighting stance in her peripheral vision.

“You both need to go,” Midnighter said, voice straining. It sounded like every word was costing him. He let go of his head to pound the earth beneath him once. Kate was close enough to see sweat running off his nose. His whole body seemed to shake.

“Not a chance,” Kate said. “What’s happening?”

“Apollo wasn’t the target,” Midnighter said. “He was the carrier.”

That was all the warning Kate had before Renee was crashing into her, weight bearing her to the ground as a baton sailed overhead, sticking solidly into the ground behind them. “This day just gets better and better,” she said, already dragging Kate to her feet.

“We have to get to Apollo,” Kate said.

“No, you don’t,” Apollo said, propping himself up on one elbow and never taking his eyes off Midnighter, expression wary. “You need to find the guy controlling the nanites and you need to do it now.”

“You’re crazy if you think we’re leaving you,” Renee said. “You think he’d ever forgive himself if he hurt you, Apollo?” She rushed at Midnighter, who’d taken a few unsteady steps forward. Renee ducked a fist, but his elbow caught her in the back. The movement looked off, lacking his usual finesse, but it was more than enough to knock her painfully to the ground.

“He won’t hurt me. Whoever’s doing this can’t have complete control or we’d be dead already. He’s fighting.” Apollo spoke with complete faith, like he was telling them that the Earth rotated around the sun. He gritted his teeth and when Midnighter shuffled past him on his way to follow up with Renee, Apollo grabbed him by the legs, tripping him hard. It didn’t keep him down for long; he kicked off Apollo’s hands and started to make his way back to his feet. “I can’t promise how long that’ll be the case, so you need to leave me in the damn sun and _go_.”

Any arguments Kate had left were demolished by a gunshot. Midnighter clutched at his chest before sinking to the ground like a puppet with his strings cut. Renee was balanced on one knee, bracing an odd looking gun two-handed. She held position for a moment, tense and ready for another shot, and only moved when it was clear that Midnighter wasn’t getting back up right away. She ran to Kate, made a grab for her arm, but Kate jerked away. “How could you?”

“He’ll heal. Can’t say the same for us if we’re here when he gets up.” She grabbed at her arm again, connecting this time. Kate almost pulled back again, but didn’t. Renee’s fingers were shaking.

Apollo had a hand on Midnighter’s chest, expression stricken. But he nodded at them when they passed.

 

The building was all the more ominous for how unremarkable it was. It could have been any one of a dozen half-neglected storehouses in the city that was hiding such a dark secret. Renee kept driving them forward, not giving Kate time to scout or wander. Kate’s skin crawled with unease even though she knew she shouldn’t have been expecting to see anybody. She had been listening over the comms, after all.

“Where are we going?” Her voice was little more than a whisper, but it still felt too loud in the empty space.

“Downstairs,” Renee said. “No way this guy wasn’t keeping Apollo close at hand. They always need to gloat when they think they’ve won.” What dim lighting there was abruptly went out. There was a sudden, sharp tapping sound, echoing through the building. Renee jerked them to a stop, fingers tensing on her arm hard enough to bruise. Kate tried to take stock of her surroundings without looking too obviously.

“It was a good guess, Question,” a man’s voice said. “But how did you expect me to stay away when the fruits of my labour are so close at hand?”

“I take it we have you to thank for…all of this.” Kate turned in the direction that the voice had seemed to come from, but saw no one. She took a step forward, just a little away from Renee, and that’s when someone swept her legs out from under her. She caught herself hard on the meat of her forearms and was already in the process of getting back up when Renee grunted from somewhere behind her. “Renee?”

“I’m fine,” Renee said. She sounded pissed. That could either be very, very good or very, very bad.

“You’ve both done such marvelous detective work; I’ve had such fun watching you as you scurried about in search of answers,” the man said. “Let me entertain you with a thought experiment: what if you never had to go searching again? What if you knew all the answers before anyone asked the questions?”

“You have them inside you, don’t you?” Renee asked. Kate backed up carefully until she felt her back hit Renee’s. They stood where they’d met, poised and ready for the next strike. “The nanites.”

“Correct! Oh, you _are_ clever, aren’t you.”

“Condescend to me again and I’ll break your nose.”

Kate felt the moment Renee’s weight shifted, leaning heavier against her. She ducked and then struck out, catching an arm in the dark. She felt more than saw Renee’s leg move and there was a yelp from beside them. Kate grinned. “Looks like you haven’t quite perfected them yet.”

“Regrettably not.” Kate was gratified to hear a note of pain in his voice. “But once my Midnighter finishes dealing with the two of you, I’ll get to work on perfecting my invention.”

Kate took a fist to the side and followed up with her own punch, missing by a narrow margin. “You’re a vulture, picking up the scraps of men smarter than you.”

“I am a visionary.” She felt Renee move slightly away, the momentum of a strike, and then Renee moving smoothly back. They settled into a rhythm, always returning to close proximity, rolling with the hits they took and consistently feeling more of their own connect every time they moved. Renee was landing more than her, but Kate was fine with that. Fight computer indeed. “I am the architect of my own fortune.”

“Good,” Renee said. “Then you’ll know that you have nobody to blame but yourself for the beating I’m about to give you.”

Kate felt Renee move, had half-formed the thought _we can win this_ , when something new drove into her stomach. Hard. She doubled over, gagging on her own breath, and heard the man laugh. “You’re late, Midnighter, but I’ll forgive you if you dispose of them quickly.”

“Shit,” Renee said and Kate would have agreed wholeheartedly if she’d had the breath to do so. Then Renee was no longer at her back and there was the sound of flesh smacking flesh. Kate started in the direction of the noise, but someone grabbed her from behind, elbows under her arms. She knew it wasn’t Midnighter because he would have been able to stop her from crushing her foot into his instep. She flipped forward, sending her opponent off-balance long enough to free herself.

“Where’s Apollo?” she asked. There was an inarticulate noise of frustration from Renee somewhere in the dark. The man barrelled into Kate, knocking her to the ground with a crow of victory. Midnighter was silent. “ _Midnighter_.” The man’s boot connected with her side and she grunted as she rolled, moving with the pain. “Where –” she worked for her breath, hand automatically covering the bruise she could already feel forming “– is Apollo?”

There was a sudden burst of light. Kate instinctively recoiled, squinting through her blurred vision. And then a relievingly familiar voice: “Right here.”

Apollo drove one glowing fist into the face of her opponent, sending him crashing to the ground, where he gripped his face and yowled in pain. In the light he was disappointingly normal, from his scuffed boots to his generic haircut. He was just a guy. It was _always_ just some guy.

“Sorry I’m late,” Apollo said, touching down to the ground and offering her a hand up. “Had to soak up some rays.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re right on time,” Kate said.

“Genuinely glad you’re not dead,” Renee said, not quite ducking a mean-looking swing from Midnighter. She caught herself on her hands rather than her face, but Kate could see blood spotting on the _inside_ of the Question mask. “Now kindly get your boyfriend off my back.”

“Midnighter.” Apollo’s face was a mask of misery. He flew at Midnighter with intent, grabbing him by both shoulders and pinning him down. “I’m sorry.”

Kate grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to lean up just enough to really get in his face while she planted one knee on his solar plexus. “How do we undo this?” The man shook his head. Kate put more of her weight on her knee, forcing him to gasp through his inelegant blubbering. “I’m not playing around.”

There was a surprised grunt and Kate turned to see Apollo with his head snapped to the side. Midnighter thrashed underneath him, trying to get enough leverage to punch him again. There was something almost sickening about Midnighter's wild, uncontrolled movements; seeing him so uncoordinated felt  _wrong_. “Not quite up to full strength yet,” Apollo said. He turned his gaze back to Midnighter and something like resolve settled into his expression. “Okay. You two might want to close your eyes.”

Kate didn’t have time to demand an explanation before there was a flash of light, so bright that it seemed to burn even after Kate had snapped her eyes shut. She was vaguely aware of someone shouting nearby, but it was like the loss of her vision had temporarily muted all of her other senses as well. Even as she felt (and it was a feeling, like warmth without heat) the light fade, she found herself reluctant to look. It was Renee’s soft groaning that finally convinced her to open her eyes.

As she blinked her vision back into focus, she saw Renee struggling to her feet while Apollo lay with his head resting against Midnighter’s chest, panting. “Note to self,” he said, “don’t use your Halo Effect while power depleted.”

Midnighter’s hand twitched and Kate felt every muscle in her body tense, but when he brought it up, it was only to lightly rest it atop Apollo’s head. “Knew you’d figure it out,” he said. His body seemed to spasm briefly and he grimaced. “Ow.”

Apollo’s neck craned to stare up at his face, even as the rest of his body seemed to sag further. “You’re okay.”

“Thank god,” Renee said.

“That guy had nothing to do with it,” Midnighter said firmly.

“You knew.” The words were somehow both accusatory and unbearably fond. “If you put me through that on purpose, you can sleep on the couch for the rest of the _year_.”

“Wasn’t going to let them stay inside you; don’t care if you’re immune. So, I made myself a little honey trap.” Midnighter’s body seemed to go through another round of spasms, but his jaw locked and he forced himself up, gently rolling Apollo to sit on the ground next to him. “Be right back. I’ve got some business to finish up.” He walked across the room, steps seeming to grow more certain and solid with every stride. He stopped, looming over where the man had curled up on the ground, looked down at him for a long moment, and then kicked him. Hard. “You dumb asshole. What kind of idiot comes after the goddamn Midnighter with nanites that are disrupted by concentrated solar energy?” Another kick and then he turned the man over with his toe. He stomped the heel of his boot into the man’s shoulder and ground it in, grinning over the sound of the man’s yowling. “This is what happens when you're not _prepared_. You wanted to be me? You're not even close.”

“Midnighter,” Kate said, voice sharp, urgency thrumming through her as she realized what she was watching. Revenge was a familiar drive, seconds from her heart any time she put on the mask or dreamed or thought nobody else was looking. She could recognize it in someone else's face easily enough. “That's enough.”

Midnighter glanced at her and shook his head. “It was never going to end any other way. You don’t hurt people and get to live – not with me.”

Her eyes narrowed. She tried to step toward him and had to catch herself through a stumble. “People? Or _your_ people?”

“I would have enjoyed killing him for doing _that_ –” he punctuated the word with a growl, putting more pressure on his heel “– to any one of them. And doing it to me was just stupid. But trying to do it to Apollo first? Now, I’m going to make it hurt.”

Apollo was sitting up, attentive. “Midnighter –”

“Don’t ask me not to. Please. I can’t. Not even for you.”

Apollo closed his eyes and Kate could read the acceptance on his face, already knew that he wasn’t going to do anything. She started forward again, but this time she was stopped by Renee’s arm across her chest. “There’s a difference between making this choice because you believe it’s the right thing and making it because you’re angry. Do you know which one you’re doing right now?”

“There isn’t a _choice_ to make, Detective. Men like this don't change and they don't stop and he's earned every inch of payback I'm going to dole out. Yes, it's personal. Yes, I'm going to have _fun_ doing it. Doesn't mean I'm not right,” Midnighter said. “Or are you going to lecture me about the way you’d do things differently in my shoes?”

“Already been there and made my call; I still don’t know if it was the right one. I have to live with that.” Renee had dropped her arm, but still seemed tense and focused, ready to grab Kate if she made a run at Midnighter. Kate honestly couldn’t promise that she wasn’t going to. “So, you need to ask yourself the question: can you do the same?”

Midnighter turned his face away from them, expression shuttering. “You're still asking all the wrong questions, Detective. You might want to get your girlfriend out of here. This won’t be pretty.”

Kate started to move, opened her mouth to protest again, and then something connected with the back of her head. She didn’t see what happened next.

 

* * *

 

Kate awoke to darkness and a familiar bedroom. Her thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the transition, the missing time. A shadow shifted in her peripheral and she became aware that she wasn’t alone. The feeling of betrayal swept over her like a tsunami; she wanted to shut her eyes against it. She settled for glaring instead. “You shouldn’t have let him do it.”

“You know we wouldn’t have been able to stop him,” Renee said.

“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have _let_ him.”

“We all make our own calls.”

Kate felt tears sting her eyes and fought the urge to turn away. It was all so broken – how did they come back from this? Did she even want to? “Did you kill him?” Renee was silent. Kate raised her voice and tried again: “Whoever it was that hurt someone who mattered to you. Did you kill him?”

“No.” Renee shifted again. Something a little like shame and a lot like loathing coloured her tone. “But I got closer than any good cop should’ve.” Kate should have felt guilty for digging up an old hurt, one that had clearly never healed quite right. Part of her did; she told it to shut up. “I know we’ve got a lot to talk about and I probably owe you that story, but it can’t be right now. I’m sorry.”

A hand reached for her in the dark and Kate jerked herself away, rejection unmistakable. The hand hovered for a moment before dropping away entirely. “I’ll be around Kate; you should come find me later. If you can forgive me. Maybe even if you can’t.”

 

Kate half expected to find bodies still lying on her floor. There weren’t any; she wasn’t certain if that was actually less or more reassuring. She made her way to the heart, lighting up the rest of the penthouse as she went; she’d spent enough time in the dark recently. The movable wall had been set back to its closed position. She assumed that Midnighter might have had something to do with it. Or maybe Renee, if she’d been waiting a while for Kate to wake up. Something bristled inside her at the gesture of courtesy, something that was eager to jump on an excuse for more anger. The practical part of her suggested that it had been a good thing, a necessary thing, but it was far too easy to drown out sometimes.

Compared to the rest of her apartment, the heart was immaculate. The tension she’d been walking with eased just a little at the knowledge that none of her would-be attackers had invaded it in her absence. She’d have to get someone in to fix the window tomorrow, beef up her security features and reinforcements (again), but for now at least there was one place that was still safe.

She sat in front of the screens, easing into the chair as her back twinged a little in protest, skin stretching over a bruise that could have come from just about anything in the last twenty-four hours, and tried to think more and feel less. She had had worse missions, objectively. Higher stakes, more collateral damage, missions that she almost hadn’t walked away from. She still felt like she’d be carrying this one for a long time.

She took control of one of the screens displaying her security footage, intending to spend the rest of the night searching through missing persons reports from the last few weeks. She knew that some of them wouldn’t be on there, that Renee had been right, that at least in this her foe had been smart, and that nobody was looking, not for them. But it was a start and she was determined to claim them, to take on the burden of their names in a way that a vindictive part of herself insisted that no one else would. It was selfish and it wouldn’t even make her feel better.

As the screen switched from the camera view, it pulled up her most recent work. Her fingers tightened over the arm rest of her chair, fingernails scratching up the fabric. From the screen, Bruno Manheim, Whisper A’Daire, and half a dozen other faces she’d managed to link to the Religion of Crime stared back at her.

“It’s not the same,” she said and it was true. But how far off was she?  _Is it justice or vengeance?_ Kate was so damn sick of questions.

 

* * *

 

To say that Gotham had been quiet in the days following would have been an exaggeration. No one was actively trying to blow the city up, which considering the low baseline, probably qualified as a good week. That didn’t mean that there wasn’t trouble. Frequently. To say that Kate was relieved about that also would have been an exaggeration, but part of her couldn’t help appreciating the distraction. No downtime meant no need to worry about processing her emotions. It was good to be busy.

She had not seen Renee or Midnighter or Apollo in that time, though she assumed that they were around. Someone had burnt down the storehouse that had once housed the _Second Life_ ruse and two men working at Arkham had mysteriously disappeared. She wondered if Renee had ever found her missing man, if he'd made it out or if he'd been one of the many that Midnighter had cut down when her disastrous plan had turned out exactly like he must have known it would. She wondered if she'd already given up the right to ask.

She wasn’t expecting to run into them tonight either, but life wasn’t generally interested in letting her deal with things at her own pace.

Renee and Midnighter were already involved in conversation when her boots made contact with the rooftop. She considered slipping away quietly, delaying potential awkwardness for even a little bit longer, but Midnighter’s body language shifted just enough to let her know that her presence had been noticed. _Time to stop being a baby about this, Kane. Woman up._

Renee hadn’t acknowledged her yet, rubbing at her neck like she’d been stung. “You could have warned me.”

“Would have taken all the fun out of it, Detective. What’s life without surprises?”

“Good for my mental health.”

“Boring.” Midnighter dropped a hand on her shoulder, firm but strangely companionable. Kate wondered how much Renee hadn’t told her about the time they’d worked together. How much Kate had missed. “Seriously, though, Renee. Anything comes up that needs my attention, you call me. I owe you – for all of it.”

“No, you don’t. And you know it too, you smug prick. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

Kate took a step forward, watching as Renee broke contact with Midnighter’s hand. She was wearing the Question mask, but her body language almost looked guilty to be caught in a friendly conversation. “You’re leaving?”

“Why?” Midnighter smirked. “Gonna miss me?”

Kate crossed her arms. “It's a relief actually. I don’t like the way you do things.”

“And I think your rules are stupid bullshit.” To her surprise, he extended a hand in her direction. She hesitated, eying him narrowly. Then she clasped the offered hand in a firm grip.

“You sure you don’t want me to clean up a bit before I go?” His smile widened. “For all I know, being a garbage man has always been my dream.”

“Grudging respect only goes so far. Kill anyone in my city again and I will _find_ a way to keep you locked up, computer or no computer.”

He laughed, releasing her hand and stepping back. “I told you: I was made for this. The best I can do is point myself in the right direction.”

“And what if you get it wrong? What do you think happens if you kill the wrong person?”

He grinned with sharp edges and too many teeth. “Then at least you know I’m vulnerable to nanites.” He stepped up to the ledge of the roof, toes poking over the edge. “Take care of yourself, Kate. Your principles aren’t worth your life.” Then he leapt.

Kate ran to the edge, leaning over, heart hammering. A few stories below, Apollo was flying, Midnighter gripped securely in his arms bridal style. He looked up, noticing her, and smiled apologetically.

“Well that was condescending,” Kate said, easing back onto solid ground, relieved and irritated in equal measure.

“I think it was actually supposed to be a compliment.”

Kate closed her eyes. Her throat felt constricted, filled with words she didn’t know how to say. “Are we talking now?”

“I guess that depends,” Renee said. Her voice was wary in a way that Kate couldn’t associate with any relationship they’d ever had, with anything they’d ever been to each other. “Do you want to talk?”

“Not really.” She heard Renee shuffling and peeked her eyes open to see her fiddling with her belt. She shot a hand out, catching Renee by the wrist. Renee’s whole body seemed to freeze. “Are you taking off your pants?”

Renee somehow found a way to grow even more still. Kate could almost picture the expression she’d be wearing under the mask and shook her head to dispel it. “No. I’m taking off my mask.”

“Oh,” Kate said. She bit the corner of her lip, considering. It was an overcast day, a little too cold. She didn’t think it would rain. “Well. Don’t.”

It was Renee’s turn to shake her head, looking both defensive and like she didn’t know what she was supposed to be defending herself from. “I – Kate – _what_?”

“Kate Kane is in love with Renee Montoya.” Kate was careful in her verb usage. She knew the difference between past and present tense. She knew what she was saying, every word. “Kate Kane is an idiot who willfully ignored all the evidence right in front of her face about who and what Renee Montoya was. Kate Kane isn’t sure where to go from here. But _I_ don’t want to deal with that right now. _I_ want something uncomplicated, just – just for now. Keep the mask on.”

She slid a gloved hand over Renee’s not-face and then paused. Removed the glove. Touched her face again. “I’ve always wondered what this felt like,” she said. The mask was just like skin, smooth and impossibly unblemished but for the muted feel of Renee’s features underneath. “It’s…kind of gross.”

“You say the sweetest things.” Renee didn’t move as Kate leaned in to kiss her, lips sliding over an approximation of where her mouth would be. Kate slid her bared hand over Renee’s neck, stroking the short curls at her hairline. Renee slowly came alive underneath her, the skin of the mask shifting oddly underneath her lips, Renee’s legs spreading to let her settle more firmly between them. Renee slipped her hands underneath Kate’s belt, tugging slightly.

“I hope your suit has an emergency release.”

“I have to admit, I didn’t design it with this purpose in mind.”

“See? I’m all about practicality.” Renee started to shuck her pants, hurried and almost ungraceful. Kate didn’t hesitate to help, ungloved hand slipping through the gap of her fly, tugging at the elastic of her panties. Kate was also an _excellent_ multi-tasker, which meant that her other hand was already working at pulling the buttons loose on her shirt.

“I love that you wear button downs.” Kate pressed a hot kiss to Renee’s newly exposed collar bone. Then she undid another button, exposed the swell of Renee’s breast, and kissed there as well.

“I would have worn them more often –” Renee broke off in a pleased groan as Kate released another button, pushed her bra to the side, and went to work a little lower again “– if I’d have known that you enjoy them so much.”

Kate’s hand was starting to cramp, elastic digging into her wrist. She was hopelessly turned on with nothing to show for it, not even close to getting out of her suit. She was kind of okay with that. “You going to last until I make it all the way down?”

“Probably not,” Renee said. And then, out of the kindness of her heart, she shifted one knee until Kate could press against the curve of it, finally rewarded by some damn friction. All right. This was something she could work with.

 

It was hard to say how long the two of them lay on the roof. Long enough for the light to slant, casting cool shadows over where they were tangled together. “God, it’s _cold_ ,” Renee said, curling tighter against her.

“You could always put your pants back on,” Kate said, making no effort to let her go in order to accommodate that suggestion.

“Yeah,” Renee said and made no effort to follow through on it.

Kate stroked her hand slow over Renee’s bicep, feeling the smooth raised area where a new scar was forming. She remembered the bandage Renee had worn the night they met in Midnighter’s apartment and wished she had taken care to leave kisses there when the two of them had been warm and pliant minutes or hours ago. She wondered if she’d have the chance to make up for the missed opportunity. “What are you going to do now?”

Renee sighed, finally pulling away. When her hand reached to release the gas from her belt buckle, Kate didn’t stop her this time. “I have some things I’ve been putting off.” Renee peeled her mask off, but the expression underneath was just as hard to read. “Promises I’ve made.”

“So, you’re leaving.” Kate’s voice was flat, tempered by an evenness that she didn’t feel.

“Yes.”

Kate nodded. For a moment, she thought that could be it. She could hold it together long enough for Renee to walk out of her life again. Then the cold wind stung at her cheeks and she realized that they were wet. “We’re so good together,” she said, disappointed by the tremor in her voice, unable to erase it. “We’re so fucking good together and it’s never the right time and I’m so mad that we just keep missing all of our chances.”

“We haven’t.”

Renee reached for her, as if to wipe the tears away, but Kate swiped over her own face, beating her to it. She didn’t know if she could stand to have Renee touch her without completely falling apart. “Where are you going?”

“Hub City. I – there’s something I need to do there.” Renee didn’t look happy, didn’t look like she wanted to go. But Kate knew a little something about duty.

“And after? Are you coming back this time?”

“I always come back,” Renee said. She sat up, looking out at a bird’s eye view of the city. “If I had any sense, I would have left Gotham and never looked back years ago.”

There was truth in that - for all of them. Gotham was a slow poison; stay there long enough and the city would take your life or your sanity. Yet all of them had chosen to wear a mask and become something more instead of getting out. There must have been a reason for their shared madness, a reason that they each chose to get hurt over and over again instead of walking away. “She must mean something to you,” she said finally.

“She does.”

 

* * *

 

“You cut your hair,” Kate said, admiring the way short brown curls peeked out from under Renee’s fedora. It was a very Question look – hat, button down, trench coat – but there was no mask between them tonight. And Kate had thought she’d had a thing for Renee’s old uniform.

“So did you,” Renee said. “Looks good.” They settled into an even walking pace, measured footsteps on streets they both knew too well.

“How was the trip? I was starting to think you’d found a new home.” Kate said it as lightly as she could, not wanting the words to be poisoned by the truth in them.

“Hub City’s a hole. It makes Gotham look positively idyllic.” Renee smiled, briefly, and then it faded. “It was the right thing – going.”

Kate nodded and they walked in silence for a moment. She searched for neutral, easy topics and came up empty. That had never been what they'd been about anyway. “How’s Tot?”

“Okay.” Kate glanced at Renee in question; ‘okay’ in that tone definitely did not mean ‘okay’. Renee merely shrugged. “We’re only partners out of respect for the legacy of a dead man, so I’m not sure how much longer that’s going to last. He wants me to be Charlie without any of the mistakes.”

“That doesn’t sound fair to you.”

“I don’t know, I feel like I’ve spent my life trying to be a lot of other people,” Renee said. “Batman made me want to spend my life trying to save people. Jim Gordon made me believe I could do it with a badge.”

Kate thought of a dark figure, an outstretched hand, and a new way to serve just when she’d finally hit bottom. She wasn’t enough of a hypocrite to pretend she didn’t get where Renee was coming from, even if her epiphanies had come the other way around. “And who made you think you had to do it with a mask?”

Renee laughed, but there was something off about the sound. Kate had heard Renee laugh for a lot of reasons and in a lot of ways over the years; this wasn’t a laugh she liked. “Now, that _is_ a question.”

“Is there an answer?” she asked, meaning _is there one you want to tell me_.

“Yeah, there is. It’s kind of a long story.”

Kate stopped, caught Renee by the hand. “We’ve got time.”

Renee ducked her head, pulling her fedora over her eyes a little bit. But her other hand was clutching back at Kate’s, twining their fingers together. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, we do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually could not find Apollo's official height anywhere, but considering artists usually give him a couple of inches on M who is already 6'5", almost a foot taller than Renee sounds about right. Apollo is a _big_ dude.
> 
> The nice thing about inventing a version of a character to fit into a continuity that they're technically not a part of is that I get to pick and choose what I want to keep and also make things up, which with Midnighter's powers is only ever an advantage. Strong liberties had to be taken with the properties of pseudoderm as it relates to fight computers that basically give the user the power of "winning". Because it didn't seem _too_ implausible to me that the magic fake skin that does everything except what it was invented to do would be something the computer wouldn't recognize and would give Midnighter a sliiightly harder time reading Renee when he's never encountered it before. It was either that or implement something to completely nerf Midnighter's powers (nanites, magic, psychic powers, other forms of power deactivation) from the get go and then that threat would have to be balanced so that somehow M could still win at the end with the help of two non-powered people. I mean, I guess I could have had Apollo rescue everybody, but I was already married to having everybody rescue Apollo and _then_ returning the favour, so there you go. Finding ways to justify a Midnighter team up is _hard_. Worth it, though.
> 
> Also Midnighter's nanite vulnerability is canon and something that I wish was taken advantage of more often.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I loved your letter and was super excited when I matched with you, Ictus. I hope you had a great Chocolate Box!


End file.
